"Get down from there!"
"No, you can't **** that animal!"
"No, no, no! By God, I will fucking murder you!"
Lifting up a small, frantically struggling creature by the throat with both hands, the Green Primordial Dragon shook it angrily. Wearing long, transmogrified white robes, an extension of his form into an elf with long green hair and sharp features, his face was contorted with growing anger.
The creature was a goblin with a blue cap. After repeated experimentation following Seraphina's separation from the Smiling Tree of Wishes, he discovered not only how to sever their connection but also how to make them more docile. Their cap wasn't needed but perhaps due to the imprint, they always sought to wear one.
He tried forcing them to remove it but within days they'd display schizophrenic-like and other psychological issues. They'd start screaming randomly, running frantically from invisible monsters or bunnies, or bashing their heads into the wall.
"GAH! Gahahahahaha!" It laughed wildly, its eyes darting toward the nearest bookshelf.
The books were scattered across the floor, and torn pages littered the ground. Disgruntled and annoyed goblins glared at this one, shouting angrily.
"GAAA!"
"HAHAHA! AAAAAA!"
Without further warning, the primordial turned and threw the goblin out the window, its maniac laughter fading into the distance.
He sighed, looking over the ledge. His new home, built into the mountainside with the help of dwarves after assisting them with their goblin problem, was laid out vertically. His personal lair on the top floor, the library in the center, and all other assortments for goblins, dwarves, and experiments on the bottom.
His gaze fell to the forest line below, and his face contorted again. A kobold, a race of goblins created when these critters had a bit too much fun with local wildlife…
These hybrids had wolf-like appearances, others beaks, and a few reptilian traits.
"Drakon," a voice rumbled behind him, and he turned.
A small dwarf, barely up to his hips, glanced back irritably at the goblins fixing up the library. He had typical brown hair and a beard, pudgy in the face but not to be underestimated as soft in any brawl. And, like many dwarves around these parts, his clothes were a mixture of belts, straps, and tunics, closer to a steampunk aesthetic.
"What is it, Hammerfist?" he sighed.
A name born from the barbaric act of pounding metal into shape with his fist.
"Ah, the goblins got into the alchemy lab again. One be runnin' around fat and stupid, destroyin' the main hall," Hammerfist paused. "'Ah don't know why you keep them 'round. They're pests."
"GAA!" One of the goblins overheard this, stuck its thumbs in its ears, stuck its tongue out, and danced around mockingly.
"They're creatures born of malice," Drakon replied. "There is a chance for them to be…"
His gaze wandered to a goblin holding onto another's tongue, peering curiously into its mouth.
"…domesticated."
"Domesticated," Hammerfist snorted, shaking his head. "Whatever. Yah might want to get down to the lab. 'Ah need to help my brothers in the mine pull up some ores."
Drakon sighed again and rubbed his eyes in frustration. The domestication process was going well, albeit very slowly. Originally, these creatures could barely understand intent, let alone words, and now some of them were becoming capable of basic experiments.
Some.
"NOoOooooOoo!"
A loud, angry voice boomed through his lair. Immediately, Drakon strode out with Hammerfist at his heel while the goblins around them paused apprehensively before returning to their buffoonery.
Down below, the goblin Hammerfist mentioned lay curled in the fetal position. It couldn't stand up as it had grown far too wide and too large, at least three times the size of Drakon's current form.
Stroking his chin, Drakon wondered if he could even get it outside before his eyes wandered to the spilled red liquids across the floor.
"GAAA!"
Two goblins ran up to Drakon, gesturing wildly at the ogre. One mimed handing out drinks, chugging one himself, then dramatically acted out his body distorting before finishing with a gesture toward the ogre.
"Hm… I see," Drakon said, picking up an empty vial with a trace of red alchemical liquid at the bottom. "You three dared each other to drink different potions and your friend here turned into this."
His eyes shifted to the two goblins and they froze, exchanging guilty glances.
"What happened to you two?"
One cupped his groin as a single tear rolled down his face. The other gestured at his feet which were now two sizes too large.
Drakon sighed, the glass vial shattering after letting it go. "Clean all this up."
His attention returned to the ogre. He lifted his hand and blue mana flowed outward. The once-goblin, now ogre-like, grunted in confusion as it felt itself lift and twist, manipulated through the tight corridors until they emerged outside.
"Can you build a domicile for this larger creature?" Drakon asked as kobolds began circling, curious about the new variant.
"You can't be serious," Hammerfist gaped, gesturing at the ogre picking its nose. "Why the bloody fuckin'—why? It's bigger and it's clearly dumber!"
"It spoke."
"What? Yeah, but—"
"I speak," the ogre interrupted, before breaking into an angry, "GAAA!" when it saw the two goblins emerge again after being dropped on its backside.
"It can translate for us."
"Hungry," the ogre grumbled. "Gaaaa."
The goblins exchanged glances and shrugged, answering him back in their own tongue.
"Not fat!" the ogre shouted angrily and tried to flatten them with his palm, only to find himself hovering again under Drakon's magic. "Not fat!"
Hammerfist stroked his beard. "Violent temper issues too… we'd have to build a sturdy home. Fine. Will you imbue some o' our ore?"
"Yes," Drakon replied dismissively. His gaze moved from the only ogre and the other two goblins, realizing a dilemma if there was only one.
Hammerfist shook his head, recognizing that brooding look of Drakon. But if Hammerfist got what he wanted...
"You got yerself a deal."