Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth

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.

Chapter 36


Jaron glanced back to see Devrem surging forward toward the pit, to help Mara. The pit was only ten feet deep, but it was full of rats, which were swarming over the dazed fighter, snapping and biting at every exposed bit of skin that they could get to. Mara snarled a curse as she tore a rat off her neck, and staggered to her feet.

But those up above had their own problems, as the two snipers reappeared, their weapons loaded and ready to fire. Jaron had his shot ready and fired first, but his arrow hit the wall and caromed wild, narrowly missing the goblin sharpshooter. The goblin returned fire, but Jaron shifted into the cover of the pillar, and the shot missed him by a wide margin. The other goblin shot Devrem, hitting him in the leg, but the cleric merely yanked out the bolt and dove down at the pit’s edge, thrusting a hand down to help Mara out. As soon as the goblins had fired again they slipped back behind cover again to reload. Even as they vanished from view Beetle stuck his head around the corner, and seeing the pair gone he darted down the hallway toward their positions. Jaron opened his mouth to shout a warning, but held his tongue; that would only result in warning the goblins, and he had to trust that his cousin could handle himself against two foes.

Something flashed by Jaron, and he turned to see Devrem stagger as a javelin stabbed into his side. Grimacing against the pain, the cleric let out a growl and pulled Mara up to where she could grab hold of the lip of the pit. The cleric fell back once she was clear, and pulled the missile out of his side.

Jaron spun to see that the source of the attack was another goblin warrior, who’d emerged out of another passage that exited on the left side of the room. The halfling reached for another arrow even as the goblin seized another javelin, but Elevaren beat both of them to the punch. The warlock’s eldritch blast hit the goblin square in the face with a sizzling hiss of fey magic. The goblin screamed and staggered back, and then turned to flee, vanishing down the passage before Jaron could get a clear shot at him.

“I’m going to help Beetle!” he shouted at his companions, emerging from cover to rush after his cousin.

The goblin sharpshooters emerged from behind the passage corners to take their next shot to find an enemy much closer than they’d expected. The first screamed as Beetle sliced his dagger across his hands, and he nearly dropped his crossbow as the bolt was discharged harmlessly into the floor. His companion lined up a shot at Beetle’s back, but the halfling twisted nimbly aside, and the goblin’s shot nearly hit his ally before it bounced harmlessly off the wall. The goblin bit off a curse and drew his sword, but before he could move to flank the halfling he had to dart back as another arrow from Jaron narrowly missed him.

Beetle’s foe recovered quickly, drawing his own sword. His first stroke caught the halfling rogue’s arm near the shoulder, but again Beetle slipped away, turning what would have been a nasty cut into a mere scratch. Beetle spun and lunged in again, and the goblin only barely avoided the thrust of his dagger. The two began an elaborate dance, the halfling’s superior speed partially countered by the longer blade of the goblin warrior.

The sharpshooter’s companion did not get a chance to come to his aid, as Jaron engaged him in close combat. Jaron was a decent fighter, but the goblin was clearly a veteran, meeting his first few swings with expert counters. Their small blades clashed several times without resolution, but while the goblin had a slight edge, Jaron had friends in a position to help.

The goblins realized this too late, and tried to break away even as Mara and Devrem rushed down the passageway toward the melee. Jaron got a good hit in as his foe retreated, and then the goblin was struck by an eldritch blast from Elevaren as it ran toward a door in the east wall. Beetle’s foe never even got that far; as he started to run the halfling leapt onto him, driving the goblin to the ground even as he slammed his dagger into his body once, twice, and finally a last time that left it limp and bleeding. Mara intercepted the other goblin even as he grabbed the handle of the door, blocking the portal with her body as she drove the goblin back. The goblin tried to run past her back down the passageway, but he was blocked by Devrem, who put him down with a solid smack from his staff.

“You should have tried to capture him,” Mara said, as they quickly checked the bodies. “We might have been able to interrogate him.”

“There is no time for that now,” the cleric replied. “One of them got away, and will likely be back any moment with reinforcements.”

“Then we’d better be ready for them,” Mara said, following the cleric along with the others as they made their way back to the entrance foyer. The light of the torches revealed that the passage forked to the right after a short distance; continuing straight where the goblin had fled, it culminated in a set of wooden doors about forty feet distant. “Here, or at the doors?” Mara asked. “The doors would give us a defensible chokepoint.”

“But if someone came through one of the other passages, we could be trapped,” Jaron pointed out.

“We can use the corners here for cover,” Devrem said, invoking a healing word that eased the pain of Mara’s wounds. Seeing the blood running down Jaron’s arm, he offered to do the same for him, but the halfling ranger shook his head, taking a rag and wrapping it around his arm to stop the bleeding.

He looked around for Beetle and saw him standing at the edge of the pit. “Come away from there, Beetle,” he said, as he took up his bow and readied an arrow.

They did not have to wait long.

Chapter 37


The companions lurked by the corners fronting the entrance to the passage, with only Jaron peeking around the edge at the doors. Beetle, it seemed, had wandered off again; at least he was nowhere in sight.

Jaron hissed a soft warning as the doors crept open. A goblin poked its head out. Jaron slipped back until he could only just see the end of the passageway around the edge of the wall.

“Stay in cover,” Mara whispered, holding her longbow with an arrow fitted to the string.

After a quick look around, the goblin stepped fully through the door, and then made room for something else coming through behind it.

“Oh, crap,” Jaron said, slipping back into full cover.

“What is it?” Mara mouthed.

“Guard drakes,” the halfling replied. They could all hear them, now, the familiar whine-hiss that the creatures made when agitated. There was obviously more than one of them, from the noise.

Mara lifted her hand, and the companions readied themselves; then she stepped around the corner into full view, drawing the fletchings of her arrow back to her cheek.

There were two guard drakes, compact bundles of scales, muscles, and teeth that lifted their heads as soon as Mara appeared. Her arrow hit one a glancing blow, but the arrow failed to penetrate its hide, and the missile fell away without inflicting damage. She certainly got its attention, however.

There were four goblins, three sharpshooters armed with loaded crossbows, and the warrior that Elevaren had wounded earlier. The sharpshooters lifted their bows and fired as one. Two of the bolts struck Mara, hitting her on the right shoulder and square in the gut. The fighter grunted and staggered back into cover, seriously hurt by the impacts. The goblins started reloading.

Jaron slid into view and shot the leading drake, his arrow stabbing into the joint where its left leg met its body. The drake shrieked and stumbled, letting its companion charge past it before it recovered. The halfling shifted back into cover before the goblins could target him, reaching for another arrow from his quiver.

The drakes burst from the passage to find the companions waiting for them. The first lunged at Mara, only to take a hit solidly across its snout that opened a deep gash down to the bone. It didn’t stop the thing from snapping its jaws at her leg, getting a good hold that nearly dragged her down to the floor. Before it could exploit its advantage, however, Elevaren’s witchfire dazed it, and it tottered to the side, shaking its head violently while the white flames issuing from its eyes and ears formed blazing trails through the air as it moved.

The second drake shot around the corner, lunging at Mara before the fighter could recover. But Devrem was there, sweeping his staff at it, the head of the weapon trailing fiery silver sparks. The lance of faith did not seriously discomfit the drake, but it left an opening for Mara, who stabbed her sword deep into its side, driving it back.

Jaron peeked around the corner, and nearly had his head taken off by a bolt that whistled past his ear. The goblins were coming forward, cautiously but quickly, their weapons obviously at the ready. Another bolt shot past him as he drew back. He’d use the cover to his advantage, and let them come to him.

The tactical situation changed a moment later, however, as the goblins passed the side passage, and Beetle, shouting wildly, leapt into their ranks, cutting and stabbing with his knife. He caught them totally by surprise, and the first one was hurt even before he could turn to face the noise, jumping back with a deep gash pouring blood down the side of his cheek.

But the goblins reacted quickly, and together the four of them turned on Beetle, their weapons coming around to pen him in from all sides.

Chapter 38


At that range, they could hardly miss.

Beetle dodged a spear thrust from the goblin warrior, but cried out as a bolt caught him hard in the shoulder from behind, punching through his leather armor and spinning him around from the force of the impact. A second bolt grazed his knee and nearly sent him to the ground, while the third punched through his right hand, inflicting a nasty, vicious wound. His dagger went flying away.

“Beetle!” Jaron yelled, darting around the corner. He drew his bow back almost to the point of snapping the string, releasing a shot that caught one of the snipers in the small of his back. The goblin staggered forward, seriously wounded. “Get out of there!”

Beetle rushed the injured goblin, running down the passage toward his cousin. The goblin, despite his wounds, tried to stop him, bringing its bow down toward his head like a club. But Beetle ducked under the swing, and as he shot past he drew another knife with his left hand, and plunged it into the goblin’s leg. The creature squealed and fell to the ground, Jaron’s arrow still quivering in his back.

The goblin warrior rushed after Beetle, trying to finish the crippled halfling before he could escape. Jaron yelled to draw the creature’s attention, taking aim with another arrow. The goblin, having already seen the deadliness of the halfling’s bow, flinched, and his thrust went awry, missing Beetle cleanly. The goblin screeched and darted to the side, taking shelter in the side alcove that led to the storeroom off the main chamber. Jaron let him go; the more immediate concern was the drakes, which were continuing to savage his companions. Stepping back into cover, thrusting Beetle behind him as his crippled cousin passed by, he fired his arrow into the back of the more seriously injured drake. The creature staggered and fell, but Mara was in little better shape than the lizard, stumbling back against the far wall. The ranger saw that her hand, when it brushed the wall, left a bright red mark.

The other drake was harrying Devrem, and as he watched it nearly ripped his staff from his hand, snarling as it tried to get past the cleric’s defenses. The raven priest was limping; apparently the drake had already gotten a good bite in. Elevaren was trying to help him, but the drake’s ferocious darting was confounding his fey magic, which thus far was having little effect.

Jaron fell back to the south, giving ground. He glanced back, but Beetle had, unsurprisingly, vanished again. He turned back just as the two surviving goblin snipers appeared in the mouth of the passage. As soon as they saw him, they lifted their crossbows to fire.

Without any more cover to protect him, Jaron could only pray that the goblins had poor aim. But from the course of the battle thus far, it seemed a thin hope indeed.

Chapter 39


Jaron found himself outnumbered, facing a pair of goblin crossbows pointed unerringly at his chest. Thus far he’d avoided injury in this latest engagement, but it looked as though that was about to change.

Something glittered in the torchlight as it flashed through the air. It struck the first goblin, glancing off the sharpshooter’s arm as his finger pulled the trigger of his bow. His shot went wide, missing Jaron cleanly by several feet. His companion only shifted slightly in reaction, but even that distraction caused his bolt to hit Jaron not squarely in the chest, but high on the shoulder, stabbing through his armor at an angle that inflicted a painful but relatively minor wound.

Jaron drew back as he pulled out another arrow, shifting back toward the center of the room, and the cover offered by the stone pillars there. The goblins, to their credit, held their ground as they pulled hooks from their belts and cocked their bows. Jaron’s hasty shot missed, whistling past the ear of the goblin on the left.

Devrem almost fell as the drake leapt at him, its hind legs clawing at his thighs while it seized his left elbow in its powerful jaws. The cleric swung around, the heavy lizard pulling him off-balance with its weight. With his free hand he flung sacred flame into its face, but the drake refused to release its grip. Multicolored fey lights flared around both combatants as another eldritch blast went awry, harming neither.

“Help Jaron!” Devrem hissed between clenched teeth, as he struggled to keep his feet. Blood trailed down from his mangled arm, splattering on the floor.

Careful not to fall into the adjacent pit, Jaron stood behind one of the stone pillars, sending arrows at the goblin snipers as quickly as he could fire. His skill with the bow seemed to have deserted him, however, and his initial miss was followed by two more, both shots shooting wildly past the goblins into the corridor behind them. The goblins, in turn, kept firing in staggered volleys, trying to catch the halfling off-guard. The tactic paid off as another bolt clipped his hip, punching through his leather armor and the flesh beneath, scraping the bone of his pelvis. Jaron cried out and fell back behind the pillar, holding onto the stone to avoid stumbling into the pit. The rats, thrown into a frenzy by recent events, shrieked up at him.

He didn’t see the goblin warrior that crept up from the passage to the south, hugging the wall as he lined up a perfect shot for his javelin.

Devrem was flagging; the drake’s weight had pulled him forward until it had gotten purchase with its clawed feet, and it yanked its head around like a dog worrying a leather throng. Devrem’s repeated applications of divine power seemed to barely faze it, the silver sparks failing to distract it from its prey. But Mara’s longsword was far more effective, severing its neck almost fully from its body. Even as it died its bite remained locked, and Devrem had to crack its jaws open with the end of his staff to free himself.

The goblins were likewise finding themselves pressed. Elevaren hit one squarely with a hex, confounding and confusing him as the eyebite invocation caused the warlock to vanish from the creature’s vision. His fellow, sensing the dangerous nature of this new foe, fired his bow at him, but the shot narrowly missed.

Grimacing as he yanked the bolt from his hip, Jaron drew another arrow from his quiver and slipped from cover to shoot again. This time he scored a direct hit, his arrow burying itself into the chest of the goblin that Elevaren had just cursed. The goblin sniper slumped to the ground, his bow falling from his fingers to land beside him.

The still-hidden warrior had a perfect shot; he lifted his javelin to take down the injured ranger. The goblin’s first warning of danger was when Beetle stepped forward and slapped his hand into his face. The point of the crossbow bolt that still pierced Beetle’s hand penetrated the warrior’s eye; he screamed once, flailed his limbs in a sudden spasm, and fell to the ground.

The last goblin elected to flee, but instead of retreating back down the corridor, the creature tried to cross the room, making either for the staircase to the surface, or to the far corridor. They would not learn which, for Devrem and Mara moved quickly to block him. Elevaren met its gaze, dismaying him with the fey power of an eyebite.

“Surrender, goblin!” Mara warned. But the creature either did not understand or did not care to comply, and he ran down the corridor to the south. “Don’t let him escape!” Mara cried. She and the cleric rushed after him, but their heavy armor and their serious wounds slowed them down. Elevaren hit him in the back with an eldritch blast, but that failed to stop him.

The goblin would have gotten away, save for the fact that his revised route of escape took him past Beetle. It was surprising how much blood could be spilled by such a tiny knife.

Chapter 40


“The smart thing to do would be to fall back, regroup, recover our strength,” Mara said, grimacing slightly as she flexed the fingers of her right hand. Behind her, Beetle dragged another goblin to the edge of the pit; the halfling was having a wonderful time propping the dead creatures up into a semblance of a lifelike pose, then kicking them down to the rats.

“The rats are making a lot of noise,” Elevaren pointed out.

“No more than the battle did,” Devrem said. “If anything was going to come investigate, they would have by now.”

“Still, there could be anything down those tunnels,” Mara persisted. “We don’t know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“We have a pretty good idea of what will happen if we don’t stop Kalarel,” Devrem replied. “We cannot hesitate.”

“And your healing, cleric? I will grant that your god did quite a number on the beatdown that those lizards gave me, but how much power do you have left?”

Devrem frowned. “My magic relies on the strength of the afflicted, as well as the intervention of the Raven Queen,” he acknowledged. “This short rest will restore us all somewhat, but what remains is limited.”

“All of the ways out are quiet,” Jaron reported, as he came forward out of the shadows to join them. “To the west the passage leads to a wide cul-de-sac with several doors. To the south, there’s that storeroom, and a larger set of double doors. East you know, beyond the door the goblins came from there’s stairs leading down to a long passage. I didn’t want to risk going beyond that, but I didn’t see any guards or other signs of the complex being alerted to our presence. Beetle, stop that. Leave the dead to their rest.”

“They are nothing but empty shells, now,” Devrem said. “Very well. I feel that there is a time for caution, and a time for risk. But I will defer to the judgment of the group.”

He shifted his gaze to each of them in turn, all save Beetle, who was looting a goblin’s pockets nearby. Finally he settled his stare on Mara.

“Fine,” the fighter said, testing the release of her swords in their scabbards. “But I hope for all our sakes that you’re not wrong, priest.”

The companions regarded each other in quiet, save for the noise of the rats as they devoured the bodies of the goblin sentries.

* * * * *

The east corridor turned out to lead to nothing save for a dead end.

They made their way down the stairs beyond the door, and then down the long tunnel beyond. Long-burning torches of pine tar set into niches in the wall provided a fitful but adequate illumination, such that they did not have to augment the light with their own sources. Their first discovery was another staircase that led down to a crumbling, decrepit chamber infested with giant rats. The creatures attacked at once, but were driven back by the magic of Elevaren and Devrem, and by the blades and missiles from the others. The worst that the companions suffered was a painful but minor bite to Devrem’s shin; while the bodies of four rats were left to be devoured by their cousins. Deciding it was highly unlikely that the goblin lair was further in this direction, the five adventurers elected not to press the rats further, and they withdrew back up the stairs to resume their course down the passage.

The tunnel ended a short distance further in a large open chamber that was dominated by an excavation that left most of the place an open pit with a floor that was a good ten feet below the entry. Parts of the room had been left intact, leaving a series of platforms connected to the entrance by a series of precarious boards that formed bridges across the pit. Scattered tools suggested that the work here had been recent and ongoing, although there were no workers present at the moment.

“I wonder what they were looking for?” Jaron asked.

“Probably much the same thing that Agrid and he crew was looking for,” Devrem said. “Artifacts to help Kalarel open the rift to the Shadowfell.”

“Well, whether they found it or not, they’re not here now,” Mara said. “I don’t see any other exits, so unless you want to try the rats again, I’d suggest we try another exit from the entry chamber.”

None of them felt particularly eager to visit the rat warren, so they made their way back, Jaron scouting in the lead. Devrem seemed distracted, muttering something to himself under his breath. Beetle lingered behind for a few moments, poking through one of the piles of tailings from the dig, then hurried to catch up to the others.

The negotiated the passage back and the staircase that led up to the entry room without incident. But when Jaron pushed open the heavy iron-banded door at the top of the stairs, he heard the voices at once. He identified the language spoken as Goblin, but the voices were too quiet to distinguish what was being said. It was pretty clear that the speakers were agitated, however, and Jaron had a fairly good idea what had riled them up.

The others, standing a bit back from the door, couldn’t hear, but they stood alert at the halfling held up his hand in warning. “Goblins,” he finally said, his voice barely loud enough for them to hear.

“How many?” Mara mouthed, but Jaron shook his head. “I’ll check,” the halfling said. He motioned for the others to wait, and slipped through the door.

The single torch that guttered in a sconce along the far wall offered only a fitful light down the length of the passage that connected to the main chamber, but still Jaron felt completely exposed as he slid forward. The voices were louder now, and he could see movement in the chamber ahead. There were a number of squat, cloaked forms—goblins, almost certainly—gathered around the now-open pit in the center of the room. Their chatter was too jumbled together to make out, but he got the gist of it. It wasn’t as if they’d been able to hide all of the signs of their battle in the chamber, even if they’d dumped most of the evidence into the rat pit.

He heard one of the goblins shout out something, a call for a certain “Balgron” to come see something he had found. Jaron had only come up to where the passage split off toward the adjacent storeroom, but he didn’t need to come any closer. By the din and movement there had to be over a dozen goblins in there, and it wouldn’t take much to be seen, even with his skills.

As if summoned by the thought, a goblin suddenly stepped into view at the mouth of the passage. Jaron bent low and froze, but the goblin looked right at him, and the way its mouth fell open revealed that he’d seen the ranger.

Jaron lifted his bow, but before he could shoot something flew past him, glittering in the torchlight briefly before it sank into the goblin’s throat with a meaty thunk. The goblin toppled over backwards, but Jaron barely noticed it, as he was pulled into the side-passage by Beetle.

“Too many! Hide hide!” his cousin hissed, even as the two of them heard the shouts of alarm from the entry chamber.

The entrance to the storeroom was warded only by a heavy curtain that had been anchored to the low ceiling by a series of rusty iron hooks. Beetle shot around it like a greased eel, and Jaron could hear a muffled cry of surprise, followed by a quiet thump. He rushed forward and pushed back the curtain enough to see Beetle dragging a dead goblin into concealment behind a stack of crates. There were no other goblins in the room that he could see, but there could have been a dozen hiding behind the various heaped stores scattered throughout the compact room.

He glanced back just as a small column of goblins charged past him toward the door to the stairs where his friends waited. One went down as bright fey-lights flashed in a violent storm around his head. From out of his view, back in the main corridor, someone shouted commands in a reedy voice, presumably this “Balgron” character referred to earlier. The command was a simple one; in the Goblin tongue, “kill everything,” was one of the more common expressions.

For a moment Jaron thought that the goblins would simply run past, but even as he started to shift back behind the curtain the last warrior at the end of the rush turned and looked right at him. The halfling ranger drew back and pulled the curtain back into place, but the damage had been done. The shouts from the corridor changed in tenor, even through the muting of the curtain, and quickly started drawing nearer.

“Beetle, we’ve got company!” Jaron said, rushing back to find a defensible position amongst the crates.

those crazy

your action always reminds me of P&P LB. Fights always seemed more involved then, changing tactics, dice, all the stuff that made it all a bit slow but more memorable. Alot now lost in the digital realm where its all RT and so quick. Meh dems the breaks. Just got kidnapped by WAR online for a week and it don't half get crazy quick.

Liking beetles corpse playhouse!

Enjoying the ride LB!
Looks like the heroes will need a decisive victory her or they're in Trouble!

Thanks for the posts, guys. The SH forum's seemed very quiet of late, and I admit my enthusiasm for writing has waned somewhat of late (not related to ENWorld, but to other things). I'm down to only a few chapters stored up so I may have to drop my regular update schedule for a while, we'll see how this week goes. I'm heading out of town for a week starting Friday, but I should have Internet access where I'm traveling.

* * * * *

Chapter 41


Goblins burst around both sides of the heavy curtain at once, lunging forward into the storeroom with javelins at the ready.

Jaron rose up behind a line of stacked casks and shot an arrow into the side of the nearer of the two. The goblin warrior grunted in pain and fell back into the curtain, almost tearing it from its moorings as he fought to recover his footing. His companion surged at Jaron before he could reload, throwing his javelin at point-blank range, clipping the halfling’s shoulder painfully with an impact that drove him a full step back. The ranger grimaced as he yanked the head of the spear free, but then the goblin was almost on top of him, lunging with the thicker, heavier spear he carried in his other hand.

But the thrust never landed, as Beetle stepped out from the crates and sliced his dagger across the back of the goblin’s leg. The goblin screamed and fell forward into the crates, blood pouring from the deep wound down his leg to splatter in fat gobs on the floor. He recovered quickly, thrusting the haft of his spear back in a violent jab that would have cracked Beetle’s breastbone, had it connected. But the rogue simple slid to the side, and as the goblin’s thrust went past, he brought his knife up and sliced the already bloody edge across the goblin’s fingers. The warrior cried out again and dropped the spear. He tried to push away, but before he could get free Jaron rose up and stabbed half of the length of his small sword into the junction where the goblin’s neck met his body. Blood jetted from the terrible wound, spraying both halflings as the warrior fell to the ground, his limbs twitching.

But the other goblin warrior had regained his footing, and had been reinforced by a pair of cutters, clad in cheap, filthy leathers but armed with perfectly dangerous short blades. The halflings could hear the sounds of battle issuing from behind the curtain, vague cries of pain and rage, punctuated by a frisson of magical energies being hurled about. Faint flickers of silver and color could be seen, but not enough to indicate the way that the battle was going.

The goblins moved forward, cautious now, wary of these small but proven dangerous foes. Jaron and Beetle retreated slowly, navigating the maze of barrels and crates by touch and memory and instinct, not turning away from the goblins for a moment.

And then the curtain slid open again, and a goblin sharpshooter with a loaded crossbow stepped through.

“Take cover, Beetle!” Jaron yelled, leaping back behind a barrel at the same instant that the goblin lifted his bow and fired. The bolt missed him by a hair’s breath, striking the weathered staves of the barrel with enough force to crack the wood. Sour-smelling liquid poured from the breach, forming a slick that spread slowly across the floor.

The goblins rushed forward to take advantage, but one of the cutters screamed and fell, clutching at the steel hilt that protruded from its left eye. The other, driven forward more by the presence of its fellows than by a desire to close with these enemies, rushed around the barrel to get at Jaron, while the warrior came around the far side.

The cutter lunged with his blade ahead of him, but the sword met only empty air, clanging hard off the stone floor. The goblin, off balance, looked perplexed, but the warrior was already moving toward the back of the room near the door, where another cluster of crates had been left scattered by the lazy goblins. Realizing he’d been spotted, Jaron rose up, using the crate for cover, his sword lifted to parry the goblin’s spear.

“Look out, Jayse!” Beetle yelled, and Jaron glanced over his shoulder to see that his situation had taken a decided turn for the worse. The door to the storeroom had opened quietly behind him, and a second goblin sharpshooter had slid into the room. It lifted its bow, and there was nothing the halfling ranger could do but stare at the sharp steel head that seemed to swell in his vision as the goblin yanked on the trigger of his bow.

Chapter 42


Jaron’s luck ran out, and the bolt slammed into his chest, knocking him back against the crate that had been protecting him a moment ago. The steel head penetrated his armor and stabbed deep into him, shearing hard off a rib and missing his lung by the scantest of margins. That was little solace for the immediate moment, and the sword at his side suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, as the goblin warrior rushed forward to gain vengeance for the arrow Jaron had shot him with just seconds before.

But once again Beetle came to his cousin’s aid, rushing forward out of cover with a scream to fall upon the warrior from behind. The goblin, intent on his target, reacted too late, and his heel slipped on the spilled ale as he shifted to respond to the new threat. Beetle drove the entire length of his knife into the goblin’s neck, and he collapsed with a bloody froth spurting from his lips.

The cutter, caught between two foes, took one look at Beetle’s face before darting back behind a row of nearby barrels. The sharpshooter standing by the curtain was a seasoned veteran, however, and he calmly slid another bolt into place behind the cocked string of his bow, and took careful aim at Beetle.

But as the goblin pulled the trigger, the curtain behind him shook with a heavy impact, jostling him slightly. His bolt flew wide, missing Beetle’s head by inches before burying itself in the corner of a crate. The goblin turned to see a goblin warrior slip through the gap on the edge of the curtain, slumping to the ground in a mess of blood. Several deep gashes had pierced his armor, and as the sniper watched he fell still and expired. Behind the curtain, a deep-throated cry sounded, an invocation of death that seemed an echo of the fate of the goblin’s companion.

The sniper had no interest in learning the source of that sound, or why the noise of melee behind the curtain had so suddenly faded. He headed for the door, reloading his bow again as he went. The halfling he’d shot at before had disappeared again, vanishing behind the crates in the middle of the room, but the other one was still on his feet.

Jaron, despite the critical wound oozing blood from his chest, charged forward to engage the other sharpshooter before he could reload his deadly bow. The goblin drew a sword and met him in the doorway, their blades ringing loudly as they clashed. But while Jaron was good with a sword, the goblin was both fresher and unwounded, and his companion was coming up quickly behind the halfling, who seemed to grow weaker with each passing second.

The second bowman finished reloading and lifted his bow toward Jaron. “Time to die, halfling!” he yelled, but his eyes weren’t on Jaron, but instead scanned the clutter of stores to his left. His wariness proved prudent a moment later as Beetle reappeared from behind a small barrel, rushing to his cousin’s aid once more. The sharpshooter shifted his aim smoothly and fired. Beetle jerked to the side, but the bolt clipped him hard on the side of his head, digging a bloody channel from just over his left eye all the way back to his ear. The halfling screamed in pain and fell forward to his knees right in front of the goblin, his palms slapping hard against the floor, blood pouring down his face in a red sheet.

The archer drew his sword and stepped forward to finish the job.