Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

Chapter 31

The back room of the Gray Oak Inn was quite cozy and comfortable, even though it was a bit crowded at the moment. The members of Northpine’s village council sat along one side of the large oval table that dominated the room, facing the strangers who had offered their aid tracking the missing boy.

However, it was becoming clear that there was no consensus on exactly how to do that.

“We’ve had trouble with bandits in the Kilmar Hills before,” Laddrick was saying. “We know we’re far off the beaten path, and there are back roads and trails that never see a patrol. Over the last few months we’ve heard reports of travelers that have gone missing, and only two weeks ago one of our local hunters was found dead with an arrow in his chest.”

“Romon Cordrim,” Mayor Greenswald said. The elected leader of the council was a retired farmer, still hale despite the fact that he had at least a decade on Laddrick and had clearly spent a life at hard labor outdoors. Thus far he’d been content to let the others do most of the talking.

“Yes,” Laddrick said. “So you can see why there’s a sense of alarm here.”

“Why would bandits grab a child?” Glori asked. “Ransom?”

“We haven’t received any contacts or demands,” Comoran said. The cleric of Sorevas was younger than he’d looked at first glance, though the others had said he’d been the resident priest for the last three years. “And the Garsons don’t have much.” As he spoke he glanced over at Derik Anthernon. Anthernon was what passed for a local lord, the patriarch of a family that held an estate on the east side of town. Half of the farmers in the village were his tenants. He sat at the end of the table and seemed a bit bored.

“So a search through the hills would seem to be the most likely course,” Laddrick said.

“Why haven’t you conducted such a search yourselves?” Kosk asked. The dwarf had deliberately seated himself in one of the armchairs next to the hearth rather than with the crowd at the table, but they had no difficulty hearing him.

“The hill country’s dangerous,” the final member of the council said. Olag Beedlebrim had the look of an innkeeper, down to the stout frame, bulging belly, and the stained apron. He hadn’t chosen one of the chairs but was standing near the door, frequently dry-washing his hands in a nervous gesture. “We are all in the militia, and participate in the monthly drills, but of the permanent residents only Sheriff Laddrick and Derik’s man Colum have professional training at arms.”

Anthernon tapped his ringed fingers lightly on the table, drawing the attention of the room to him. “While I share the ambition to rid our hills of vermin, especially if said task is to be performed by generous strangers, perhaps a more local search might be more profitable in actually finding the boy.”

“You’re talking about the Kaseen estate,” Greenswald said.

“It’s well known that your family has had a long-standing interest in the property,” Laddrick said. “Could that be the reason for the suggestion?”

“Perhaps you should give our guests the background, and let them decide for themselves,” Anthernon said.

The story turned out to be one of those local scandals that most communities had buried in their histories. The Kaseen had been a notable clan in the region until twenty years ago, when the entire family was found slaughtered in the estate house. Those responsible had never been identified. Since then the place had been left abandoned, though more recent events had contributed to a growing legend that the place was haunted. Ten years ago a group of four squatters had been found dead in the cellar, without a mark on them. And three years ago, a handful of older boys from the village had visited the site on a dare. While they didn’t find any ghosts, later three of them came down with a fever and two died. Since then the estate had been off-limits, even though it had ample cleared fields and a mostly-intact watermill close to the site.

“Why would the missing child go there, if it is forbidden?” Quellan asked.

“Obviously you have not spent much company with young boys,” Glori said dryly.

“Has anyone talked to his friends?” Bredan asked.

“Yes, extensively,” Laddrick said. “I interviewed half of the people in the village myself. No one had any indication that Caric had expressed any interest in the Kaseen estate.” He turned to the priest. “Cormoran?”

The young man frowned. “If there are malevolent spirits there, it is possible that they might have been able to lure the boy there.”

“It’s also possible that the boy’s bones are lying in some animal’s den,” Kosk said.

The look the villagers shared indicated that the thought had occurred to them. “Look, I’ll admit that even if Caric is dead, I—we—have an interest in clearing the hills of bandits…” Laddrick began. But he was interrupted by a commotion from outside, quickly followed by a man bursting into the room. The swinging door almost struck the innkeeper, who stumbled back out of the way.

The new arrival was a man who wore the ink-stained robes of a scholar. He was maybe fifty, his neatly-trimmed beard belying an otherwise disordered appearance, as if he’d just gotten up out of bed. He was engaged in an angry exchange with a younger man who wore a chain shirt and a short sword, and who had apparently tried to keep him from barging into the meeting.

“Nordrum, this is a private meeting of the village council,” Laddrick said.

“Yes, but what I have to say may be germane to your deliberations,” the scholar said. “I entreat just a few moments of this august body’s time.”

“Let me guess, you have a theory of where the boy went,” Kosk muttered, but quietly enough that none of the others head him.

“Oh, very well,” Greenswald said.

The guard turned to Anthernon. “Sorry, sir, he got past me.”

“It’s all right, Colum,” the lordling said.

When the guard had closed the door the scholar straightened his robe and nodded to the four adventurers, turning a full circle to include Kosk in his greeting. “You have come to assist in the search for the missing boy?” Without waiting for a response he went on, “I believe he might have wandered to a ruin in the local area…”

Several of the other councilors let out audible groans at that. Nordrum tried to continue, but Anthernon said, “You’ve been trying for months to find someone to loot that ruin for you. There’s nothing there, just some old rubble.”

The sage drew himself up, all affronted dignity. “You speak of matters of which you do not comprehend. There is an eldritch power within that ruin, a magic beyond the ken of modern understanding…”

As the sage spoke, Bredan, Glori, and Quellan shared a look. “That sounds familiar,” the bard said quietly.

“Nordrum,” Laddrick said. “If you do not have any evidence, real evidence, that the boy might have traveled to those old ruins...”

“I have as much evidence as any of you,” the sage said.

“He’s got you there,” Kosk piped up from his corner.

“Look,” Quellan said. “Why don’t we go over all of the available options, including everything that you’ve learned from talking to the village folk. We should also speak to the boy’s mother. Then we’ll decide where to proceed from there.”

Chapter 32

The day dawned unseasonably cool with gray clouds lingering low over the village. But they didn’t deepen into the angry shade that threatened rain, and they began to thin out as the four adventurers left Northpine and headed southeast into the Kilmar Hills.

Their meeting with the council had gone long and had been followed with a largely unproductive interview with the missing boy’s distraught mother. By then it had been late enough in the day that they’d decided to stay the night in the village and get an early start the next morning.

The delay had allowed Erron Laddrick to prepare a map of the hills that extended south and east of the village for several leagues. The map wasn’t as comprehensive or as detailed as the one that Starfinder had loaned them back in Crosspath, but it included a number of landmarks including the place where the dead hunter had been found and some of the many trails that wound through the hills. The sheriff had marked several sites where he thought they might find signs of bandits, if in fact they did exist and had a lair within the region. The map even included a suggested route and various places that might serve as a campsite, for even a partial circuit of the region would take them at least a few days.

“This sheriff seems to know his business,” Bredan said as they paused to check the map. That was one of the factors that had led them to try his recommended course for finding the missing child first. A search of the area around the Garson farm had turned up no tracks or other clues, so all they had to go on were the various suggestions from the local residents. They’d confirmed that none of the locals had seen the boy or had any clues from before his disappearance that hinted at where he might have gone.

“He served in the local baron’s guards for twenty years,” Glori said. “He retired as a senior officer and was given the position of sheriff basically as a retirement pension.”

Bredan blinked at her. “How do you know that?”

“I asked around,” Glori said. “All you really have to do to get to know a place is talk to people.”

“You know, we never did learn the name of the local baron,” Quellan said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kosk said. “Half the locals probably don’t even know. It’s common out here in the west to find places like this, baronies cobbled together out of half a dozen widely scattered villages.”

“I wonder how many men—people,” Bredan amended, after glancing over at Glori, “will be heading north to Adelar. Answering the King’s call.”

“We’ll find out when we get there,” Kosk said. “Which will be later than we thought, thanks to your bloody soft-heartedness.”

“We couldn’t just leave these people in their hour of need,” Quellan said. “The boy…”

“Is most likely dead,” Kosk said, but there wasn’t any anger in the statement, just resignation.

With that grim note dogging their steps the companions made their ways into the hills. The Kilmars were rather more pleasant than the Dry Hills. The prevailing winds brought more moisture through these lands, and while they were hardly lush there were plenty of springs and streams and even some edible wild plants that could stretch their stores and bulk up their evening stews. Their route wouldn’t take them that far from the village, following a path through the hills in a broad crescent that would return them to the road half a dozen miles beyond Northpine.

The trail they followed was little more than an old hunter’s track and was almost invisible at places, but Laddrick’s map was clear enough that they didn’t get lost. They didn’t see anything larger than a rabbit—one that fled too quickly for Glori to get a shot off—until late afternoon, when they heard someone approaching on the trail ahead. They were navigating a gully thick with brush, limiting their vision to only about fifty paces ahead of them, but they quickly readied their weapons for a confrontation. By the sudden quiet it sounded like whoever it was had detected them as well.

“Ahoy the trail!” came a voice from up ahead. “We’re just travelers, not seeking trouble!”

“We’re not here to give you any!” Kosk replied before Glori or Quellan could offer a more conciliatory answer. “Show yourselves!”

The two parties approached warily. The ‘travelers’ were another quartet, four human men who were clearly equipped to deal with the dangers of the Kilmar Hills. All wore suits of studded leather armor that had clearly seen long use, and two carried short bows in addition to the swords and daggers they all carried. Their leader was a gruff-looking man who had a bushy beard and a hard look that he fixed on the four adventurers as he came forward to greet them.

“Gorus Tholrin,” he said. “You’re the first travelers we’ve seen out here. We getting close to the road, by any chance?”

“Quellan Emberlane,” the cleric replied. “Keep going this way and you’ll hit it by sundown.”

“Much obliged,” Tholrin said. “You heading east?”

“Not for much longer,” Quellan said. “We’re looking for a child that’s gone missing from one of the local villages. Been gone a couple days now.”

“Hmm. That’s rough. We haven’t seen anyone, but we’ll keep our eyes open.”

“What brings you west?” Kosk asked.

Tholrin gave the dwarf a look that suggested challenge, but then he shrugged and said, “We’re looking to take the King’s coin. You’ve heard the news?”

“Aye,” Quellan said. “We were headed north ourselves, before we stopped at the village.”

“Well. Hope you find the kid. Safe travels.”

“Safe travels,” Quellan said.

The two groups moved past each other, each side eying the other before moving on their way. Glori in particular attracted attention, and Bredan moved to stand next to her until Tholrin and his companions were well past and moving out of their view.

“You think they were telling the truth?” Bredan asked.

“About why they’re here?” Kosk said. “Could be. They had the look of mercenaries, but the line between ‘mercenary’ and ‘bandit’ can be a fluid one at times.”

“You sound like you know that from personal experience,” Glori said.

Kosk’s expression sharpened, but then he turned toward the trail ahead. “Come on, I’d just as soon get well clear of our friends before nightfall, just in case.”

Soon after their encounter they turned to the north, following another path that ran parallel to an undulating ridge of exposed granite that rose as high as fifty feet above them. They followed that ridge for the better part of a mile before it turned east and they continued north into a rough landscape of steep hills and exposed outcrops that forced them to follow a meandering course.

“You could hide a hundred bloody bandit gangs in this landscape,” Kosk said.

“They need food and water just like anybody else,” Bredan said. “This place is too rocky to support a hideout.”

The dwarf didn’t respond, but he picked up his pace just enough to force them to hurry to keep up. Glori shot Quellan a covert grin, and the cleric smiled back and shook his head.

Night descended swiftly upon the hills, but Laddrick’s map remained reliable and they had no difficulty finding one of the campsites he’d indicated. Bredan guessed that they were only maybe five or six miles east of Northpine as the crow flew, but they’d covered two or three times that distance in their meandering hike through the hills. Tomorrow they’d finish their sweep north and then curve left to find the road again, hopefully before sunset.

There weren’t any large trees in the rocky part of the hills they were traveling through, but they found enough scrub growth and dried bushes to fuel a small fire. Glori was watching Bredan snap sticks and Quellan unpack some of the edible roots they’d found earlier in the day when she said, “I was thinking more about that Tholrin and his men.”

“In my experience, it never ends well when a woman begins a sentence with ‘I was thinking,’” Bredan said. That got a snort from Kosk and a stern look from Glori, but Quellan stepped in and asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“Just this… where were they coming from? I mean, I haven’t heard anything about settlements in these hills, and it sure doesn’t look like anyone lives out here.”

“Maybe there’s some settlements on the other side of the range,” Bredan suggested.

“Maybe,” Glori said. “But if that’s the case, why wouldn’t they have just gone east into the Liir Valley? The route there is much easier, basically a straight shot to Adelar.”

“What are you saying, that they might be bandits?” Bredan asked. “That we should go back to Northpine?”

“I don’t know,” Glori said. “Maybe they were just what they seemed to be. After all, Kosk didn’t punch any of them, so maybe they’re fine.”

The dwarf didn’t respond to the jibe. “We should finish our sweep,” he said. “If they were bandits, they clearly didn’t have the boy with them, and maybe they’ve got a hiding place somewhere around here. We can check if they came through Northpine when we get back, and if not we can worry about…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, as a high-pitched voice called out from the darkness beyond the ring of firelight, “Hello the camp!”

The companions grabbed their weapons and scrambled to their feet. “Who’s there?” Quellan called out.

“Just a humble traveler,” came the return.

The four companions shared a look. “Did they follow us?”

“That doesn’t sound like Tholrin,” Glori said. “Though we didn’t hear any of his companions speak.”

“That fire looks nice and warm,” the stranger said. With the firelight surrounding them even those with darkvision couldn’t see anything more than a vague shadow well back from the camp.

“Come forward into the light,” Quellan said.

The figure approached, and was revealed to be a reedy figure of a human, draped in a dark cloak that looked to be a size or two too large for him. One look was enough to confirm that he was not one of the mercenaries they’d encountered earlier that day; this person looked about as dangerous as the rabbit they’d spooked earlier in the day. He didn’t carry any obvious weapons, though the cloak was big enough to conceal almost anything under its generous folds. He came to a halt right on the edge of the firelight and regarded them with a placating grin.

“Who are you, now?” Kosk asked.

“My name is Orin Lesar.”

“I don’t reckon you’ve come to take the King’s coin as well,” the dwarf said.

“King? What king?” Orin asked.

The four companions shared a look. “Um… King Dangren,” Glori said. “The King of Arresh? The kingdom you’re in right now?”

“Oh, that king!” Orin said with a wild giggle that had the others sharing glanced again. “Oh, is that stew you’re making? I’m famished!” He shuffled forward quickly enough that Quellan stepped aside before he had a chance to think better of it.

The others circled back around the fire as Orin seated himself on a rock beside the fire. The light from the flames flickered in his eyes. As he smiled up at them they could see that he was missing several teeth, and the ones that remained were blackened with decay.

“Um… where did this guy come from?” Bredan whispered to Glori. The smith still had his big sword in his hand, though he left it in its scabbard.

“I have no idea,” the bard whispered back. She likewise held onto her bow tightly, an arrow clutched in her other hand.

Kosk was on the other side of the fire and hadn’t heard their exchange, but he clearly had the same thoughts on his mind. “So where are you from?” he asked.

“Oh, here and there,” Orin said. He didn’t seem to be alarmed at their manner or the weapons they still held openly, but as the companions spread out Glori’s cloak fell open and the firelight caught on her lyre. The strange traveler’s eyes fixed on it at once. “Silver,” he said. “I thought I smelled silver.”

“Excuse me?” Glori said, flicking her cloak protectively over her instrument.

“I hate silver,” Orin said, his lips twisting back into a snarl.

“Look, friend,” Kosk said. “Maybe you’d be better off finding your own camp.”

Orin tore his gaze away from Glori and smiled up at the dwarf. “I like it here.”

Kosk’s expression didn’t change, but the others knew him well enough to sense the subtle shift in his mood. “My companions don’t like it when I punch strangers in the face, but I’m not sharing my camp with a crazy person. Move along, or there will be trouble.”

“Trouble,” Orin said. “Trouble.” He laughed, a deep cackle that bounced off the surrounding rocks and filled their camp.

“That can’t be good,” Glori said.

“Actually, I don’t think I mind if you punch this guy,” Bredan said.

Orin’s laughter continued until he was convulsed by it. He wrapped his arms around his side and bent forward until his face was almost touching the ground. The cowl of his cloak fell forward, shrouding him from view, but the cackles continued to issue from within.

“This guy’s going to get his skull cracked in a minute,” Kosk said. He lifted his staff, but Quellan quickly stepped forward. “He may have a mental illness,” the cleric said. “Orin, I think you should…”

The cleric was interrupted as Orin’s head shot up.

“Oh, gods,” Bredan said.

Their visitor’s visage had transformed; the face that regarded them now was pinched and furry, with beady eyes and sharp yellow teeth that protruded from an elongated snout with whiskers that twitched as his chuckles trailed off. He’d produced a weapon, a long dagger that he’d kept concealed behind his back.

“Wererat!” Kosk exclaimed.

“Trouble!” Orin hissed, as he leapt up and attacked.

Chapter 33

Quellan swung his mace at the wererat, but the creature ducked nimbly under the attack and dove forward across the campfire at Glori. She flinched back but managed to draw her bow and release her arrow. The shot struck Orin in the torso but did nothing to slow his violent rush; he landed next to her and let out a high-pitched shriek as he lifted his dagger to strike.

Before Orin could stab her, however, Bredan swept his sword into his torso. The heavy blade caught him solidly and launched him back across the campfire. He was flung into the rocks and rolled to a heap a good five steps away.

Bredan started to lower his sword—nobody could have survived a hit like that—but Kosk yelled, “We’re not done yet!”

Bredan looked at his victim and was startled to see the wererat spring back up to his feet, none the worse for wear. The creature darted back nimbly as Kosk lunged at him with his staff, mocking him with another series of cackles as the blows missed. Not that they would have done anything even if they’d hit, Bredan thought, not after the way he’d shrugged off that hit from his sword.

Kosk shifted tactics and tried to grapple the creature, but Orin sprang clear of his grasp and leapt back toward Bredan and Glori. The smith stepped in front of the bard, trying to think of something he could do that would have a chance of affecting this foe. He finally fell back on the sword, trying to knock the wererat into the fire. But again the creature just shrugged off the blow, bouncing up and snapping his jaws around Bredan’s forearm.

“Ahh!” Bredan yelled. He tried to shake the wererat loose, but he held on tenaciously. In the meantime Orin kept stabbing with his knife, but the heavy chainmail proved its value as it absorbed the hits without harm. The creature hissed through his clutch on Bredan’s arm and tried to clamber up onto the smith's struggling body to get within reach of his face.

Suddenly the wererat stiffened and let out a hiss of pain. He released his jaws and fell clear. Bredan could see Glori there; she’d used her lyre as a weapon, pressing the silver against the creature’s hide. Orin snarled and lunged at her.

A beam of soft light struck the wererat. It came from Quellan’s holy symbol, which the cleric had held out like a divine talisman. The pale radiance sparkled and did no harm as it brushed over Bredan and Glori, but the creature screamed and fell back as if scorched by fire. The glow continued to shine around Orin as he stumbled back to the edge of the camp. Kosk and Bredan started to follow, but the wererat sprang away from them into the rocks. He flung his cloak over his body. The dwarf and smith reached the spot fairly quickly, but all they found was an empty garment, and angry squeaks that were already fading into the night.

“What… what was that thing?” Bredan asked.

“Wererat,” Kosk said. “A lycanthrope… a magical combination of man and beast. Dangerous… and cursed.” He looked meaningfully at Bredan’s arm.

Glori and Quellan came running up to join them. “Did it bite you?” the bard asked.

Bredan held up his arm. Quellan examined it, and they were all relieved to find that while his bracer bore fresh marks from the creature’s teeth, they had apparently failed to break his skin.

“You were lucky,” Kosk said. “Such things can sometimes pass on their curse by biting or scratching their victims.”

Bredan shuddered. “Do you think it’ll come back?”

Kosk shrugged. “They’re cowardly like rats. They can only be hurt with silver and magic, and we’ve proven we have both, so maybe it will keep running.”

Bredan stared out into the darkness, hardly reassured.

As they made their way back to the reassuring light and warmth of the fire Glori turned to Quellan and asked, “What was that you cast at it?”

“The spell is called guiding bolt. It’s not that complicated, just channels a bit of divine energy into a radiant effect.”

“Good thing for us Hosrenu responded to your call,” she said.

Chapter 34

The cave was cramped and dismal, the single torch burning low in a niche in one wall doing little to push back the gloom. The single figure that sat in a sagging wooden chair made the place seem even smaller, especially when he reached out and his hand enveloped the stein that sat on the table next to him. A large double-bladed axe sat propped up against the wall within easy reach.

A shadow materialized in the mouth of the passage that led to the room. It lingered there a moment until the huge figure looked that way.

“What did you hear?” the man with the axe asked.

The shadowy figure came into the room. The torchlight didn’t do much to reveal details of his form. He was clad in a patchwork coat that looked like it had been crafted from a dozen other garments. Over that he wore an inky cloak that included a cowl that hung low over his face. “Hello to you as well, Jargo. Did you manage to eat all the food and finish the ale while I was gone?”

“Have your little friends scare us up some more,” the giant said, punctuating the comment with a deep belch.

“I fear our allies’ resources are quite nearly depleted,” the cloaked man said. He walked past the table and peered into the darkness that filled the back of the cave. As he moved past the torch the cloak briefly fell back to reveal a hand that was covered with an ugly hybrid of scales and tufted bristles of black hair. “How is our guest?”

“Alive,” Jargo said. He lifted his cup and drained the last of its contents.

“I received word from the north,” the cloaked man said.

“Yeah?”

The other waited to see if more questions would be forthcoming, and finally sighed. “We may need to relocate.”

“Why? We got a good setup here, Cthel.”

“War is coming to Arresh. Such things bring opportunity. More opportunity than the occasional wagon or unlucky traveler.” He lifted a hand, and metal clinked in his palm.

That got the big warrior’s attention. “So what do you suggest?”

“There’s going to be a lot of men heading north. Men who would otherwise be guarding settlements, or protecting caravans. Softer targets, soon. We play our cards correctly, we can make a few big scores then be on our way before anyone’s the wiser. Big enough that we can set ourselves up nicely somewhere far away from here. Someplace with finer… accommodations.”

Jargo grunted at that, but it was clear that his companion’s suggestions had drawn his interest. “And what about our prisoner?” he asked.

Both men turned to stare into the darkness, where a pair of eyes was just visible on the very edge of the torchlight, watching them in turn.

Cthel appeared to consider for a moment. “Our guest is still valuable for the moment,” he finally said. “But if we have to leave suddenly… well, sometimes one must sacrifice a small boon in the cause of gaining something greater.”

He laughed, a harsh, jarring sound that echoed uncannily off the walls of the cave.

* * *

Orin Lesar did not return, but they hardly spent a restful night and got a late start the next morning. Fortunately the difficult ground they’d been covering grew earlier around midmorning, and they passed into a series of rolling hills covered in scrub with light forest in the spaces between. Water was again easily located and they were able to both refill their bottles and wash off the dust of their hike.

It was still early when they came to one of the campsites that Laddrick had marked on his map. It was located in a sheltered nook surrounded by large boulders in the lee of a slightly larger hill. It was close to a small spring that fed a trickling stream that ran down the lower slope of the hill until it culminated in a pool about ten paces across.

Laddrick had marked the site as one occasionally visited by hunters and trappers that operated in the hills. But it was clear from even a cursory examination that the campsite had been used recently, and not by common hunters. The dull red stains that marked the rocks in a number of places were faded but recent, given that the recent rains hadn’t washed them away. And Glori found something else, a broken arrow that apparently had shattered on the rocks.

Kosk examined the arrow. “This isn’t civilized work. Humanoids, maybe.”

“Over here, there’s some tracks,” Bredan said.

They all went to take a look. The tracks were scattered around the campsite. The marks were faint, too faint to make out much about them, but they could all see that the prints were significantly smaller than any they left behind.

“What do you think, goblins maybe?” Bredan asked.

Kosk frowned at the marks. “I don’t think so. But I’m not sure, the ground’s too hard here. Too much stone.”

“Can we see which way they went?” Quellan asked.

Bredan began widening his search, but he’d barely begun inspecting the ground outside the nook when Kosk held up a hand in warning.

“What is it?” Glori asked, loud enough for Bredan to hear and stop what he was doing.

“I don’t know,” the dwarf said. “Something’s wrong.”

Quellan sniffed the air. “I feel it too.”

They all started scanning the surrounding area, so it only took a moment for Glori to notice the threat. “There,” she said, pointing to a spot along the shoulder of the hill near where they’d first entered the camp.

The hound stood in profile atop a small shelf of stone that jutted from the hillside. It looked almost normal at first glance, if larger than even the largest domestic breed. But as it turned to face them they could see that it was not even close to normal.

The hound had two heads, both filled with jaws full of sharp teeth that trailed tendrils of slather as it slowly, almost casually, approached the campsite.

“A death dog,” Quellan said.

A what now?

carborundum said:

A what now?

Click to expand...

https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Death Dog (wait until after today's update if you don't want spoilers)

It's one of the creatures in the appendix of the 5e monster manual.

An alternative version of this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SwYWFRa6oU

* * *

Chapter 35

The death dog continued its measured approach, apparently unconcerned with any reactions from its prey.

“My lyre has a spell that can charm animals,” Glori said, reaching for her instrument.

“This is no normal beast,” Quellan said. He unslung his shield and grasped his mace. Bredan had started to reach for his bow, but the creature was already too close. He finally shrugged off his pack and unfastened his baldric to swing his sword around into his grasp.

The death dog kept slowly padding closer. They could hear a low rumbling issuing from its twin throats, a grim and menacing sound that was somehow worse than a howl or something else more aggressive.

“Maybe I can scare it off with an illusion,” Glori said. But she’d barely touched the strings of her instrument, issuing a few fragmentary notes, when the unnatural hound launched itself forward at them.

The monster moved with surprising speed, closing the remaining gap to them with just a few bounds. Its focus seemed to be on Glori, but Bredan and Quellan quickly moved to block it. But the dog just charged right into them, the sheer mass of it knocking both men back several steps. Bredan stumbled and dropped to one knee, while Quellan kept his footing but had to abandon his attack.

Kosk darted in and struck it on one of its necks with his staff. The head of the weapon impacted with a loud crack, but it clearly didn’t do much in the way of real harm to the creature. It spun and lunged at him. The dwarf started to dive to the side but the jaws of its right head snapped on his robe. The fabric tore as it jerked back, but held together enough to bounce Kosk around roughly as the hound shook its head back and forth violently. Its other head tried to seize the dwarf as he flopped around, but he was just able to contort out from the path of those deadly teeth.

Glori ran at the hound and stabbed it in the flank with her dagger. The hound whirled on her. Kosk’s robe finally ripped under the abuse and the dwarf was flung into the rocks. Glori tried to retreat, but the hound lunged forward and seized hold of her left shoulder with one set of jaws. She screamed as its teeth bit through her cloak and the protective leather vest underneath it, tearing the skin underneath.

“Glori!” Bredan cried. He ran forward but was met by the monster’s other head, which snapped at him. He responded with an angry snarl of his own and thrust his sword into that gaping maw. The sharp steel ripped into the top of its jaw, carving open a broad bloody gash. The dog drew back in reflexive pain, releasing its grip on Glori. But its retreat lasted only long enough for both heads to focus on the adversary that had stung it so.

The hound leapt forward again, but this time the companions were ready for the speed of its attack. Bredan sidestepped, avoiding the hound’s rush and forcing it to twist its body around to face him. It had no difficulty following, but before it could bring its deadly jaws to play again it ran into both Quellan and Kosk. The dwarf came in low, striking it solidly in one foreleg with his staff. This time the crack of impact was accompanied by the solid sound of a bone snapping. The monster flinched, but could not react before Quellan stepped up and drove his mace down solidly into its spine, right where it split into its two necks. The force of the impact drove the creature to the ground. For a moment it looked like it would somehow overcome all the damage that had been done to it, but after a moment trying to get back to its feet it slumped to the ground. Even then its jaws continued to snap feebly at them, until Bredan stepped around its heads and drove the full length of his sword into its body.

“Ow,” Glori said, clutching her injured arm.

“Quellan,” Bredan said, but the cleric was already coming around the other side of the dying creature to her aid. “Just a moment,” Quellan said. He touched his holy symbol and sent the healing power of a cure wounds spell into her. The spell took effect quickly, but the cleric’s expression remained troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Bredan asked. “Did that monster do something to her?”

“All I know about death dogs comes from books,” the cleric admitted. “Petellian’s Bestiary of the Realms has the most complete account.”

“I don’t need a bloody lesson, just tell me what’s wrong!” Bredan said.

“Bredan, just let him finish,” Glori said. She put a hand on her friend’s arm.

Quellan nodded. “All sources agree that the creatures’ bites can inflict a nasty disease that causes the flesh of the victim to rot away.”

Bredan paled. “Can you treat it?”

Quellan started to shake his head, but Glori looked strangely pleased. “I think I’m okay,” she said.

“But if you get sick…” Bredan began.

“No, look,” Glori said. She tugged her cloak around and showed them the silver brooch they’d found in the Dry Hills. “I’ve been studying this, and I think it protects against sickness and poison.”

Bredan looked at it dubiously, but Quellan said, “I think you may be right. That would fit with the serpent motif. Look, one of the gem-eyes has turned dark.”

“We can still go back to Northpine,” Bredan said.

“There’s no need,” Glori said. “I’m fine.”

Bredan reluctantly went to collect his gear. Quellan went to check on Kosk, who was examining the dead creature. His robe had taken most of the damage from the hound’s jaws, but he had some cuts that he insisted were fine. At the cleric’s warning about the sickness Kosk merely said, “I’m a dwarf,” but he didn’t object to Quellan cleaning out the wounds and bandaging them.

Glori came over just as the cleric was finishing. “I suppose you’ll have something to say about rushing into a fight,” she said to Kosk.

But the monk just nodded toward her dagger. “Next time go for the big blood vessel on the inside curve of the leg,” he said.

Bredan came over to them with his usual burdens back in place. “Thus far we’ve found some mercenaries, a half-rat, half-human crazy man, and a two-headed monster,” he said. “But no bandits, and no missing boy. Based on our experience, I doubt the kid would have survived ten minutes if he’d been dumb enough to come into these hills. Should we go back now?”

“We haven’t finished checking all the places on the sheriff’s map yet,” Glori said. “And what about those tracks you found?”

“Those could have been anything,” Bredan said. “And do you really think the kid made it this far out?”

Kosk had unrolled the map, and Quellan bent to look over his shoulder. “We’ve still got a lot of day left, and there’s another possible location not far from here marked on the map. We’ll go that way, see if we find any more tracks or other signs of who visited this place and left blood behind. If we don’t find anything we can still cut back to the road before nightfall.”

In the end it didn’t take them very long at all to find their foe.

The only tracks they found leaving the trapper’s camp were some marks that headed north. They rocky landscape soon gave way to a wooded valley. The trees grew more closely together there than they had encountered previously, but that actually helped them maintain a quick pace as the dense undergrowth that had forced previous detours was largely absent. At first Bredan spent a lot of time looking for tracks, but then Glori pointed out that there was only one likely way that a traveler coming this way could have gone; the sides of the valley were steep and nearly vertical in places, promising a difficult climb up to the level of the surrounding hills.

They passed another two streams before the ground began to slowly rise again. They filled their water bottles again but then pressed on, intent on finishing their sweep before the day ended and forced them to spend another day in the hills. Bredan guessed that less than an hour had passed since their fight with the death dog before the trees thinned out and the valley walls drew back to reveal another broad open space ahead.

The sun had broken through the clouds while they had been in the forest, and the sudden brightness blinded them for a moment until their eyes adjusted. To the west and east two rows of lightly wooded hills marched forward like sentries, while directly ahead of them the ground rose in a gentler slope to a low hilltop a few hundred yards away. The hillside was covered with rocks that had choked off all growth but the usual weeds and the occasional enterprising bush that had found enough soil to take root.

“Great, more climbing,” Bredan groused.

“Let’s see what we can see from up there,” Quellan said. “We must be close to the site that Laddrick indicated.”

“Seems like if I was looking for a place to build a camp I would have chosen the valley,” Bredan said. “It had shade, water, shelter…”

“Exactly,” Kosk said. “So if there’s danger here we’re not seeing it. So keep an eye out.”

They started up the rise. Even with the lack of growth and the relatively easy slope the uneven scatter of rocks made the climb slower and more difficult than it otherwise would have been.

They were about halfway to the top when Bredan paused to shift his mail coif and wipe his brow. Now that they were in direct sunlight he was starting to sweat profusely under his armor. Glori paused and looked back at him. “You okay?”

“I’m starting to feel like I’m back in the forge,” he said. “Look, do you really think we’re going to find…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, as he was interrupted by an arrow that thudded into his shoulder. For a moment he just stared down at it, the feathered end of the shaft quivering for a moment before he felt the burning pain spread out from the point of impact. He sucked in a breath to call out a warning, but this time Glori beat him to it.

“Ambush!” she warned.

Chapter 36

The companions scattered and dove for cover. None of the scattered rocks were big enough to offer much protection, but dropping prone presented their unseen attackers with smaller targets. That proved a wise course a moment later as a second arrow shot by above them, followed a moment later by something small and hard that bounced off a rock with a loud “ping.”

“Are you okay?” Glori asked Bredan. The smith’s large pack bulged up, revealing his location, but it actually offered some protection against fire from above. “Hold still, I can come to you with healing.”

Bredan held up a hand as she started to get up. “No, I’m fine,” he said. He yanked the arrow out, carefully unhooking the head from the metal links of his mail. “It barely penetrated my armor.” It stung like fire, but he tried to ignore that for the moment. He held up the arrow so she could see the familiar shape of it. “Guess we found our bandits after all.”

“Did either of you see where the shots came from?” Quellan asked. He and Kosk were above ten steps further up the slope, the dwarf almost invisible in the scattered weeds, the massive half-orc somewhat less so.

“No,” Glori said. “The shot had to come from somewhere up there, though,” she said, indicating the summit of the hill.

Bredan shrugged off his pack, flinching as another arrow shot past him. But it missed by at least five paces, and he quickly reached for his crossbow.

“That’s it, draw their fire,” Glori said. He glanced over at her and saw she had her bow already prepared, with an arrow fitted to the string. She shot him a grin and winked.

“Yeah, draw their fire,” Bredan said, taking a bolt out of the case.

“There!” Quellan said, as a tiny head popped up from the rocks about a hundred feet up the slope. Glori fired at about the same time as another arrow arced down from above, but the thing had disappeared again by the time her shot reached it. Its arrow in turn landed in the rocks about twenty paces away from any of them.

“They’re not very good shots,” Glori said.

“Yeah, not very good at all,” Bredan said dryly. He’d gotten his bow loaded, and lifted his head slowly while he scanned for targets.

But before he could locate an enemy, Kosk abruptly stood up. The dwarf was muttering something under his breath and looked disgusted. Without waiting for his companions he started running up the slope.

“Kosk!” Quellan shouted, but the dwarf ignored him. The cleric rose and started after him, his shield raised to protect his face and body. The proved to be a wise precaution as a sling bullet bounced off it, making a clatter as it ricocheted off the stones of the hillside.

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this,” Glori said. She launched one more arrow at the enemy position then rose and rushed forward after them. Bredan had no choice but to follow.

As they ran up the hillside they could see that there were in fact two such positions, separated by maybe fifty feet. The little heads of their foes popped up and down in a manner that might have been humorous if not for the deadly missiles they launched each time. Kosk drew most of their fire as the unarmored dwarf pulled ahead of his companions, but either the creatures weren’t very good at targeting a moving target or the monk was proving extremely lucky, as none of the shots even came close to hitting him. Finally the attacks stopped as the dwarf drew close to the closer of the two positions. But instead of waiting for his companions to reach him, Kosk leapt forward and suddenly dropped out of view.

“Kosk, wait!” Quellan yelled, some obvious frustration creeping into his normally even tone. Grunting with the effort of charging up the slope, the cleric gestured with his mace. “Check the other one!” he shouted back to Glori and Bredan.

Bredan ignored the sweat running down his back and gathering under the armor protecting his brow and veered after Glori. It didn’t take them long to check the sniper post, a small pit dug into the hillside. Rocks had been carefully arranged to provide cover and concealment without revealing their presence to anyone coming up from below. The two peered into the hole, shared a quick look, and then hurried over to rejoin Quellan.

The second hole was just like the first, down to the low, narrow tunnel opening in the bottom. “The other one’s the same,” Bredan said. “Except there’s a little dead reptile-man in it with one of Glori’s arrows stuck in its head. Nice shot, by the way,” he said.

“Lucky shot,” Glori said. “Kosk went in after them?”

“It would seem so,” Quellan said.

“What are those things?” Bredan asked.

“Kobolds,” Quellan said.

“We’d never fit in there,” Bredan said. “Even without our armor it would be a tight squeeze.”

“I know,” Quellan said. His whole body seemed tensed with the need for action.

“I can fit,” Glori said.

Both men turned on her. “No, no way,” Bredan said.

“We can’t just leave him in there alone,” Glori said.

“Hey, he chose to run off by himself…” Bredan began.

“Look!” Glori said. They followed her gaze and just caught a glimpse of another reptilian head another hundred paces or so up the hillside an instant before it dropped out of view.

“There must be another entrance up there,” Quellan said.

“Go on,” Glori said. “I’ll follow Kosk, and meet up with you up there.”

“But…” Bredan persisted.

“Look, I promise if I run into trouble I’ll run back as fast as I can. I know I’m not a warrior, okay?”

“You’re as brave as any warrior I’ve ever met,” Quellan said.

She smiled at him, then drew her dagger and jumped into the pit. Without another look back she bent low and crept forward into the tunnel.

“Come on,” Quellan said to Bredan, and the two resumed their climb up the hill.

* * *

Author’s Note: this encounter was my first experience with layered disadvantages. The kobolds had 3 reasons for disadvantage at one point: for sunlight, range, and prone targets. Per the rules-as-written they had the same chance of scoring a hit whether their targets were 100 feet away and prone or standing in the open 10 feet away. Maybe Kosk recognized this, and that’s why he decided to charge.

I am a big fan of the simplicity of the 5e rules, but they do lead to some odd situations. If I was DMing this I would probably have granted the adventurers 50% cover, even though the description suggested that the rocks weren’t really big enough to hide behind.

Chapter 37

Glori was not a fan of tight spaces.

The kobold tunnel was not that difficult to navigate, though she had to keep her head low and walk in a sort of shuffle. She regretted not taking off her backpack but decided not to stop now. She could hear faint sounds from up ahead but couldn’t quite identify them.

As she left the light of the hillside behind her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The gift of her father’s heritage let her see more or less clearly, though there wasn’t anything to see except for the irregular line of the tunnel heading deeper into the substance of the hill. There were wooden beams supporting the passage at regular intervals, but she still wondered just how good kobolds were at building.

After about forty feet the tunnel turned sharply to the left. As soon as she reached the bend she saw a kobold waiting for her. She jumped in surprise, although the creature was lying motionless on the floor of the passage, its head lolling at an awkward angle. She approached warily and prodded it with her dagger. It was dead, its neck broken.

The tunnel ahead had grown eerily silent. “Dwarves,” she muttered to herself before resuming her exploration of the kobold complex.

The tunnel seemed to go on forever, but she knew that was just an illusion created by her own hyperactive mind. It twisted slightly back and forth, keeping her from seeing very far ahead, but finally she saw an open space ahead. She hesitated for a moment but still didn’t hear anything.

When she shuffled into the room her eyes widened in surprise.

Four more kobolds had met their end here. The room wasn’t very big, and was set up as a small guardroom. The furnishings were crude and sized to the kobolds, and had been scattered in disarray. One of the chairs had been shattered into fragments, a dead kobold lying in the wreckage. The iron scent of freshly spilled blood filled the room.

There were three other exits. To her right there was a small opening blocked by a wooden grate. To her left was another passage similar to the one she’d just navigated, which she guessed probably led to the other sniper position she and Bredan had scouted. On the far side of the little room was a rough-hewn staircase that led up. She headed in that direction, careful of the corpses in case any of them were not quite finished.

None of the kobolds moved, but she saw a wet glistening on the blade of the dagger that one of them carried. She saw more blood in spatters as she made her way to the steps.

Kosk hadn’t gotten past these guards unscathed.

That thought was confirmed as she found an empty potion vial on one of the steps. She didn’t need to check to know it was one of their potions of healing. There were more smears of blood on the steps, and a few marks on the wall where the monk had probably leaned for support on his climb.

She started up, slowly, but then heard a sharp shriek of pain from up ahead. It didn’t sound like it had come from the dwarf, but she found herself running anyway, grimacing as her elbows scraped against the walls of the narrow ascent.

At the top of the stairs another tunnel continued in what she guessed was roughly the direction of the hilltop, though it was easy to get turned around in these meandering corridors. She hoped that Bredan and Quellan had found another way into the kobold complex, and that she was heading toward them rather than toward another ambush. She was acutely aware that the passages she’d bypassed meant that more of the creatures could be behind her.

The passage briefly widened into a slightly larger space. It resumed directly ahead, but to her right there was a scattering of gear next to a ledge that dropped off into darkness. Glori could hear sounds coming from below, shuffling noises accompanied by low squeaks. She edged over to take a look.

The ledge overlooked a small round space maybe ten feet across. The drop was only about six feet. She saw that the sounds she heard were coming from a huge, fat pig.

She picked up a loose pebble and tossed it down. “Hey, pig!” she hissed.

The stone bounced off the pig’s head. It looked up and grunted at her.

A sudden loud clang of metal on stone caused her to jump again. It came from the far passage and sounded close. Thinking of the dwarf’s staff and its iron tips, she hurried forward.

The tunnel began to ascend slightly, just enough for her to notice the grade. It continued to twist, just enough so that she couldn’t see more than fifteen or twenty feet ahead at a time. That kept her from seeing Kosk until she almost ran into him.

The dwarf had been facing away from her, but he spun quickly and swept his staff up toward her face. Glori flinched back, but at the last moment the iron-tipped end came to a stop with maybe a hand’s span to spare.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” Kosk growled. He stepped back, but Glori could see that he had to lean against the wall for support. There was another kobold lying on the ground just past him. There was another bloody knife lying next to its hand, indicating that it had gotten another piece of the monk before it had died.

It looked like Kosk had lost many such pieces already. His robe was gashed in a number of places, and covered in bloodstains.

“You’re crazy,” she said. “Rushing in here alone.”

“It will take more than a bunch of kobolds to put an end to me,” Kosk said. When Glori sheathed her dagger and unlimbered her lyre he said, “I’m fine.”

“You’re about to collapse from blood loss, you stubborn fool,” she said. She played a soft melody that invoked the healing magic of the lyre, channeling the power of a cure wounds spell into the injured dwarf. He took a deep breath as the magic took hold and eased the worst of the damage he’d sustained.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

“They went around. We think there’s another entrance further up the hill.”

“You came down here alone?”

She shot him a look. “You’re going to second-guess me? Really?”

“Never mind. Come on, there was one more that got away.”

Without waiting for a response Kosk started forward again, forcing Glori to hurry to keep up. As she stepped over the dead kobold she said, “You must really hate these creatures.”

“They’re vermin,” the dwarf said without looking back.

The tunnel continued its gradual ascent. Glori was beginning to think that they would pass through the entire hill when they came around another slight bend to see the reassuring glow of daylight ahead. Kosk was still going at full tilt up the passage and was quickly drawing ahead of her.

“Wait, damn it, just wait!” Glori said.

The dwarf didn’t stop, but he slowed just enough for Glori to catch up to him. She reached the bright exit only a few steps behind him, and emerged into daylight.

They were in a round canyon roughly thirty feet across. The cliff walls that ringed them were almost twenty feet high. There was another tunnel opening on the far side of the canyon roughly opposite where they’d come in, and another opening to its left, which accessed a narrow ledge about ten feet off the ground. The late-afternoon sunlight didn’t reach the canyon floor, but after the absolute dark of the tunnel it took their eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Because of that moment of adjustment Glori didn’t immediately see the kobold that appeared on the ledge, but she caught the hint of motion when it lifted a bow and aimed another of the stubby arrows directly at her heart.

Chapter 38

Glori froze as the kobold archer took aim at her. She knew she should look for cover, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide.

But before the kobold could unleash his missile a loud, deep cry drew her attention up to the rim of the canyon. She was startled to see a large armored form come hurtling down out of the sky. The kobold saw it too, and flinched back. It dove for the tunnel mouth at the back of the ledge, but just as it reached that escape the descending figure landed on the ledge. Glori couldn’t see if the kobold had been crushed or simply knocked into the tunnel, but she did see the new arrival bounce off the solidity of the cliff wall and totter backward. For a moment her heart caught in her chest as he hung there on the very edge, half his body tilted out over the empty space below, but then he managed to recover enough to fall forward to relative safety.

Once he was secure, Quellan turned and waved at them.

“And you call me crazy,” Kosk said.

“Where’s Bredan?” Glori yelled up at the cleric.

“He was right behind me,” Quellan said. And as if summoned by the half-orc’s words the smith appeared along the rim of the canyon. He took a less direct route down to the ledge, following a series of faint, almost invisible steps that had been cut into the cliff face.

“Did you get that archer?” Kosk asked.

Quellan nodded. “Broke his back, I think.”

“There must be a way up there,” the dwarf said. He hurried off again before Glori could stop him, vanishing into the far tunnel. Glori just threw her hands up and followed him.

This tunnel was more spacious than the earlier ones, and Glori found that she could walk fully upright and without scraping her elbows on the walls. The passage continued for about twenty feet before emerging onto another guardroom, similar to the first except for the more generous dimensions. The room was vacant except for a small table and a few chairs, but there were signs that a number of kobolds had been there recently. There were two exits, one that went back toward the canyon and another in the far wall. Kosk took a quick glance at the closer exit before moving over to the other one. For a moment Glori thought he might go charging off again, but he only peered into the passage, careful to remain behind the cover of the corner.

A clank of mail and heavy boots announced the arrival first of Quellan then Bredan, who came into the room from the near passage.

“Sorry it took us so long,” Quellan said. “The kobolds set some snares on the hillside.”

“As far as I’m concerned you came at exactly the right moment,” Glori said.

“Are you crazy?” Bredan asked, coming around the room toward Kosk. “Rushing off alone like that?”

“I already told him,” Glori said.

“Quiet!” the dwarf hissed, holding up a hand to keep Bredan from stepping into the view of the far passage.

Quellan and Glori sidled around the table to join Kosk. “What’s ahead?” the half-orc whispered.

“It’s their lair, I think,” Kosk said. “Heard a bunch of them skittering around in there before you two louts arrived with all your clanking.”

“How many, do you think?” Glori asked.

“Not bloody enough,” Kosk said.

Glori stepped forward so she could grab him in case he went charging off again. The dwarf glared at her but didn’t move. “Can we maybe think of a plan first, this time?”

“There’s only one way in,” Kosk said. “One of the outer guards got away from me, they’re probably preparing for us as we waste time here. I heard some scraping sounds, they’re probably moving furniture to fortify their position.”

“Maybe we can negotiate with them,” Quellan suggested. “If they have the boy…”

“They’re kobolds,” Kosk said with disgust. “They’re cowards, but they’ll fight like devils defending their lair. If they do have the boy, our only chance to save him is to hit hard and hit fast.”

“I think… I think I agree with him,” Bredan said.

“Right,” Kosk said. He looked at Quellan. “You coming?”

Quellan sighed and lifted his shield. “All right. Glori, you said your lyre had the sleep spell?”

Glori had already grabbed her instrument. “Way ahead of you.”

“Let’s do this,” Kosk said, but Quellan interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder. “What now?” the dwarf hissed.

“Bredan, you still have that potion we found in the shrine?” Quellan asked.

After a moment the smith nodded. “You might want to drink it now,” the cleric said.

Chapter 39

Grisk and his kobolds waited in ambush behind the row of barrels that they’d dragged into the center of the Outer Lair. The reptilian creatures—seven of them—held their weapons and focused intently on the entrance tunnel. Only Kuluk had a bow, but several of the others held small spears that they would throw at the first intruder to appear. Once engaged they would all draw their knives and swarm at the enemy from all directions, darting and slicing until all of the enemies were dead.

Grisk glanced back at the tunnel that led to the rear cave. The cave where the great Nuruk had lived when he had been chief of the small tribe. At least until Jargo had ripped his head off with his bare hands.

Grisk couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. It was the kobold way, yield before strength, but it still rankled to have turned over the leadership of their tribe to a pair of outsiders. Outsiders who still hadn’t made an appearance, though it had been at least fifty pulsebeats since Vurk had gone to warn them of intruders in the complex. They should have been here by now, unless…

“Enemies come!” Kuluk hissed. Grisk turned back, lifting his scimitar. The looted weapon was his most prized possession, though the blade was old and pitted. Shadows shifted in the entrance passage, and the kobolds tensed. Grisk let out a sharp whistle to let the ambush force know to be ready. They were kobolds, they would defend their lair with clever cunning, regardless of what their “leaders” chose to do.

But before the first foe appeared, a loud shout reverberated through the cavern. It sounded louder than anything Grisk had heard before, louder even than Jargo’s battle cry. The kobolds all flinched back from that sound, but Grisk quickly urged them back up, knowing what was coming.

He was right, as he lifted his head to see a dwarf and a human come charging into the room with their weapons raised to attack.

* * *

The echoes from Quellan’s shout, augmented by his thaumaturgy, were still ringing in Bredan’s ears as he rushed into the cavern behind Kosk. But the kobolds looked to be even worse off. A bunch of them were gathered behind a row of barrels arranged directly across from the entrance, not far from a firepit built under a natural chimney that allowed just the faintest hint of natural light into the room. Bredan opened his fist and tossed the pebble that Quellan had enchanted with a light spell across the room. It skittered to the front of the barricade, causing the kobolds to flinch back from the bright glow.

A spear shot past his head, but it flew well wide and struck the cavern wall behind him. Another kobold was trying to get a bead on Kosk with its bow, but even as it drew the string back it slumped to the ground. Several of the other kobolds fell as well, victims of Glori’s sleep spell.

Kosk moved right, coming around the edge of the line of barrels. A kobold darted out to meet him, but had to duck back to avoid getting brained by the dwarf’s staff. A second creature tried to come at him from the side, but Kosk spun into a kick that cracked the kobold in the chest and knocked it sprawling. It managed to crawl away, but was clearly badly hurt.

Bredan saw several more of the creatures huddling behind the barrels, including one that had a curved sword almost as big as it was. It was trying to wake up one of its sleeping companions, but on seeing Bredan it let out a squeak and grabbed the sword.

Bredan lunged and delivered a solid kick to the barrel. It toppled over, striking the kobold and knocking it back. The smith lifted his sword and prepared to finish it off, but a shout of alarm from Glori spun his head around.

The bard had followed them into the room, ready to support the warriors with her lyre in her hands. Quellan had rushed to help Kosk, leaving her alone for the moment. She’d moved to the left not to get in the way of the fighting, but that had brought her closer to a narrow side passage that Bredan hadn’t immediately noticed in the confusion of the fight. But he noticed it now as another five kobolds rushed from that passage and ran toward Glori with knives gleaming bright in the light.