Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 35
The goblin sentry leaned against the wall, keeping watch. It wasn’t a particularly strenuous duty, as there was really only one way through which intruders could come, down the steps that led up to the ruined keep on the surface. Well, there was the odd chance that another of the big rats could wander up from the lower caverns, but the drakes posted to guard the dig site down that way kept such incursions to a minimum. But the goblin licked his lips at the thought anyway. A nice fat rat would be just the thing. He straightened to scratch himself, belched, and leaned back against the wall. Guard duty was boring, but the goblin knew better than to slack at the duty. Greebor had taken a header into the rat pit because Kalarel had found him sleeping on watch, and Splug was in the klink right now because he’d been caught cheating on the ale ration. That fat bastard Balgron didn’t exactly inspire terror in the ranks, but that human priest... he was one to keep a warrior on his toes.
Thus the sentry detected the slight shift of a shadow along the stairs, and he hefted a javelin. There was no sound save for the faintest scratching coming from the rat pit. He crept forward where the south passage opened up into the larger open space of the entrance chamber, wary of any threat. But he was absolutely unprepared for the halfling that stepped out from around the corner not two feet in front of him.
“Hello!” the halfling chirped, before slamming a knife into the surprised sentry’s chest.
The goblin staggered back, dropping his javelin, clutching his chest where bright red blood spread out across his dirty jerkin. An arrow whistled past his head, its steel head clinking as it glanced off the stone wall and shot off down the passage beyond.
The goblin opened his mouth to shout, but only managed a shrill, pained screech as the halfling stabbed him again, this time digging his knife deep into the meat of his thigh. The goblin fell forward against the wall, losing his balance as his blood slicked the stones under his feet. He couldn’t see the halfling behind him, but he knew he was there, coming forward to finish it. The warrior, summoning some reserve of determination, thrust off from the wall and rounded on his foe, hefting his spear, ready to put his tormentor at bay.
Except the halfling was gone; save for the sharp pains in his chest and leg, it was as if he’d never existed at all.
The goblin barely felt the thuds that impacted him hard in the chest and gut; somehow the sharp whistle of the arrows before they struck seemed more momentous. That sound was the last thing he heard, before he stumbled back a step and then toppled to the ground.
“Only one guard?” Elevaren asked, as he followed Jaron and Mara down to the end of the stairs. The pair had drawn out fresh arrows, and stood alert with them fitted to the string, alert to another threat.
“Don’t bet on it,” Mara said, sweeping the chamber with her eyes. Other than four slender pillars that formed a square in the middle of the chamber, the place seemed devoid of features. Three passages led off the room, situated in the center of each wall. A few bits of scattered trash lay discarded in the corners, but otherwise the room was empty. “Where’s Beetle?” she asked quietly.
“He’s over there,” Jaron said, gesturing toward the shadows along the far wall where the light of the two torches failed to reach.
“I thought you moved quietly, but damned if your cousin isn’t part shadow himself,” Mara said, stepping off the stairs more fully into the room.
“Look out!” Jaron warned, a scant instant before missiles shot out from the corridor on the far side of the room. Mara grunted as one of the shots hit her hard in the shoulder, failing to penetrate the metal scales of her armor. The missile fell to the ground at her feet, and Jaron saw that it was a crossbow bolt.
“Sharpshooters!” the halfling exclaimed, but any further reply was cut off as another bolt clipped his arm, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips. The bolt hadn’t hit him square, punching clear through his sleeve on its way past, but it had drawn blood.
He could see their attackers now, a pair of goblins that had taken up firing positions at the end of the corridor ahead, where it opened onto another larger chamber. They were using the corners there for cover, and dropped back out of sight, presumably to reload their weapons.
Mara didn’t intend to give them a chance to get off another shot; she dropped her bow and started to draw her swords as she rushed forward. Jaron moved forward as well, intending to use the pillars as cover, but as he came into the room his eyes were drawn to the floor in between them.
“Mara, stop!” he shouted.
The fighter turned her head toward him, but the ranger’s warning came too late, as the ground suddenly came apart under her feet, and she plummeted into a pit, where a violent and wild screeching greeted her arrival.
The goblin sentry leaned against the wall, keeping watch. It wasn’t a particularly strenuous duty, as there was really only one way through which intruders could come, down the steps that led up to the ruined keep on the surface. Well, there was the odd chance that another of the big rats could wander up from the lower caverns, but the drakes posted to guard the dig site down that way kept such incursions to a minimum. But the goblin licked his lips at the thought anyway. A nice fat rat would be just the thing. He straightened to scratch himself, belched, and leaned back against the wall. Guard duty was boring, but the goblin knew better than to slack at the duty. Greebor had taken a header into the rat pit because Kalarel had found him sleeping on watch, and Splug was in the klink right now because he’d been caught cheating on the ale ration. That fat bastard Balgron didn’t exactly inspire terror in the ranks, but that human priest... he was one to keep a warrior on his toes.
Thus the sentry detected the slight shift of a shadow along the stairs, and he hefted a javelin. There was no sound save for the faintest scratching coming from the rat pit. He crept forward where the south passage opened up into the larger open space of the entrance chamber, wary of any threat. But he was absolutely unprepared for the halfling that stepped out from around the corner not two feet in front of him.
“Hello!” the halfling chirped, before slamming a knife into the surprised sentry’s chest.
The goblin staggered back, dropping his javelin, clutching his chest where bright red blood spread out across his dirty jerkin. An arrow whistled past his head, its steel head clinking as it glanced off the stone wall and shot off down the passage beyond.
The goblin opened his mouth to shout, but only managed a shrill, pained screech as the halfling stabbed him again, this time digging his knife deep into the meat of his thigh. The goblin fell forward against the wall, losing his balance as his blood slicked the stones under his feet. He couldn’t see the halfling behind him, but he knew he was there, coming forward to finish it. The warrior, summoning some reserve of determination, thrust off from the wall and rounded on his foe, hefting his spear, ready to put his tormentor at bay.
Except the halfling was gone; save for the sharp pains in his chest and leg, it was as if he’d never existed at all.
The goblin barely felt the thuds that impacted him hard in the chest and gut; somehow the sharp whistle of the arrows before they struck seemed more momentous. That sound was the last thing he heard, before he stumbled back a step and then toppled to the ground.
“Only one guard?” Elevaren asked, as he followed Jaron and Mara down to the end of the stairs. The pair had drawn out fresh arrows, and stood alert with them fitted to the string, alert to another threat.
“Don’t bet on it,” Mara said, sweeping the chamber with her eyes. Other than four slender pillars that formed a square in the middle of the chamber, the place seemed devoid of features. Three passages led off the room, situated in the center of each wall. A few bits of scattered trash lay discarded in the corners, but otherwise the room was empty. “Where’s Beetle?” she asked quietly.
“He’s over there,” Jaron said, gesturing toward the shadows along the far wall where the light of the two torches failed to reach.
“I thought you moved quietly, but damned if your cousin isn’t part shadow himself,” Mara said, stepping off the stairs more fully into the room.
“Look out!” Jaron warned, a scant instant before missiles shot out from the corridor on the far side of the room. Mara grunted as one of the shots hit her hard in the shoulder, failing to penetrate the metal scales of her armor. The missile fell to the ground at her feet, and Jaron saw that it was a crossbow bolt.
“Sharpshooters!” the halfling exclaimed, but any further reply was cut off as another bolt clipped his arm, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips. The bolt hadn’t hit him square, punching clear through his sleeve on its way past, but it had drawn blood.
He could see their attackers now, a pair of goblins that had taken up firing positions at the end of the corridor ahead, where it opened onto another larger chamber. They were using the corners there for cover, and dropped back out of sight, presumably to reload their weapons.
Mara didn’t intend to give them a chance to get off another shot; she dropped her bow and started to draw her swords as she rushed forward. Jaron moved forward as well, intending to use the pillars as cover, but as he came into the room his eyes were drawn to the floor in between them.
“Mara, stop!” he shouted.
The fighter turned her head toward him, but the ranger’s warning came too late, as the ground suddenly came apart under her feet, and she plummeted into a pit, where a violent and wild screeching greeted her arrival.