The gout of flame just seemed to panic them more, as a pair of them started running around... colliding into one another, and crashing back to the ground. The remaining two reach for their weapons, but only one manages to actually arm itself with anything dangerous, the other picking up a turnip, instead.<br/><br/>"Sharptooth is angry! Sharptooth furious we eat turnips, now come to punish us, like others!" one of the now-prone kobolds would cry, and the others looked moderately terrified... as if Devaguea were some sort of karmic vengeance, incarnate.