Capellan
Explorer
4: Hot Times in Kobold City
The stone door eased open slowly.
"No sign of anything waiting for us." Smith reported. Quietly - or as quiet as you can be when one of you is in platform boots - the four moved back into the corridor.
"So which way do we all go?" Floyd asked. "Toward them scaly critters, or the lot that we messed with last time?"
"Scaly critters." Smith made his choice quickly, "We saw them first."
"Scaly ones." Fabio agreed, pointing in that direction and taking the opportunity to posture for Beverly.
Their course agreed, the group moved forward. The room where they had previously fought the reptilian humanoids was empty of living foes, though bloodied corpses still littered the floor.
As they eased open the door to the room, a bell jangled in the distance. Smith swore, pointing to a rope that was attached to the door handle.
"They'll be ready for us, now."
"That's okay, son." Floyd slipped on a pair of sunglasses, "Ah'm ready, too."
* * *
Yusdrayl watched as the warriors of the tribe scrambled to respond to the alarm bell. Six of her bounders had been lost - seven if she counted that fool, Meepo - and now the intruders returned. Well, the Dragonfolk were ready for them, now. They would fall, and fill the bellies of her brood.
Incanting the words of protection, the kobold matriarch encased herself in a shimmering aura of force, and moved to join the defence, her guards moving in a screen before her.
There was a shout, then a clash of steel, as the first of her people burst from hiding and attacked the fleshy intruders. Yusdrayl smiled, moving so she could see the assault.
A pair of the humans stood athwart an intersection of two corridors. Two of her people were already fighting them, while four more charged along the corridor as she watched.
Then a third human appeared, casting what looked like a rock toward the charging warriors. White fire burst out, wreathing the kobolds in flame and death. They screamed and fell, writhing in brief, agonising death.
Yusdrayl sucked breath into her snout, her yellow eyes narrowing. These folk had magic, did they? They would learn that the Dragonborn did, as well.
She spoke, and two shards of energy flew from her fingers to strike the man who had cast the fire. He shouted and stepped back out of sight, limping slightly from the injury.
Seeing the man's retreat, the warriors of the tribe surged forward again, one of the bravest lancing his spear deep into his enemy's thigh. Bright, arterial blood flowed. Yusdrayl's nose twitched at the scent. The injured human stumbled back, his hand falling to the injury, trying to staunch the flow of blood. A howl rose from her people as they saw victory.
And then the lead-most warrior exploded, his body shattered by the strange metal wands held by the humans. Another fighter seemed to lose his senses, running past the fighting men, without a thought to defend himself. He fell, skull shattered by a blow from a pick, and the howl turned to a moan of despair.
Yusdrayl summoned her magic as fast as she could, sending blast after blast of energy against the foe. Surely they must fall eventually.
But they did not, and her people continued to die. One by one, they fell, until the intersection was choked with their bodies. Yusdrayl's magic began to falter, and she switched to a less potent spell, still fighting on despite the cold certainty in her heart. She would die this day.
"If only the accursed goblins had not stolen Calcryx -" she hissed, flinging a ray of cold at her foes. "- we would feast on your bones."
One of the humans raised his wand, and there was a noise like a dragon's roar.
* * *
"Damn, there was a lot o' those little bastards." Floyd wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing half-dried blood across his skin. "Any of 'em still moving?"
"Not by themselves." Beverly kicked the corpse of the last to fall, a wizened female who had thrown magical bolts against them. "Nasty looking things." She paused and giggled, "Did you see the one I waved at? It came running straight by you. Stupid beast."
"Treasure." Fabio interjected, waving from the far end of the long hall. Beverly and Floyd approached, leaving Smith to the job of collecting the creature's collection of coins.
Their long-haired companion had found a small altar, on which sat a number of items.
"Well, lookee here." Floyd picked up an old iron key. Under a slight tarnish of rust, a carved dragon's head could be seen on the handle.
"What about it?" Beverly wrinkled her nose, "It's dirty."
"Before y'all came here, there were a door we found as we couldn't open. Had a dragon on it. Ah'd say we all just found the key." Floyd tucked the item away, as well as the other objects on the altar. "Let's check what else we can find in these parts, then head back there."
* * *
"Oh yes." The goblin prisoner gabbled in broken Common, nervously cringing away from the corpse of the creature beside it, "Very interested learn Book of Mormon. Book of Mormon very good."
"I knew these translations of the Book would come in handy." Smith smiled in satisfaction.
"Do you really believe it?" Beverly looked up from filing her nails, "I mean, you just killed its friends. It's hardly likely to say 'no'."
"God will punish his transgression if he lies."
"Right." The young blonde rolled her eyes and yawned, "Look, can we get on with this? I'm bored."
Handing his new convert a leather-bound copy of the Book of Mormon, Smith led the way out of the jail room, back into the main kobold hall.
"So, one goblin you shot in the head, one you pushed into a pit trap, and one that managed to run off." Beverly mused, twirling a finger in her hair, "How do you think this one will die?"
"Runnin' away." Floyd tapped his pistol.
"He's a member of the brethren." Smith insisted, "We must trust him."
"Trust that?" Beverly sniffed, "I don't even trust you, Mr Skanky I've-Got-Four-Wives."
The stone door eased open slowly.
"No sign of anything waiting for us." Smith reported. Quietly - or as quiet as you can be when one of you is in platform boots - the four moved back into the corridor.
"So which way do we all go?" Floyd asked. "Toward them scaly critters, or the lot that we messed with last time?"
"Scaly critters." Smith made his choice quickly, "We saw them first."
"Scaly ones." Fabio agreed, pointing in that direction and taking the opportunity to posture for Beverly.
Their course agreed, the group moved forward. The room where they had previously fought the reptilian humanoids was empty of living foes, though bloodied corpses still littered the floor.
As they eased open the door to the room, a bell jangled in the distance. Smith swore, pointing to a rope that was attached to the door handle.
"They'll be ready for us, now."
"That's okay, son." Floyd slipped on a pair of sunglasses, "Ah'm ready, too."
* * *
Yusdrayl watched as the warriors of the tribe scrambled to respond to the alarm bell. Six of her bounders had been lost - seven if she counted that fool, Meepo - and now the intruders returned. Well, the Dragonfolk were ready for them, now. They would fall, and fill the bellies of her brood.
Incanting the words of protection, the kobold matriarch encased herself in a shimmering aura of force, and moved to join the defence, her guards moving in a screen before her.
There was a shout, then a clash of steel, as the first of her people burst from hiding and attacked the fleshy intruders. Yusdrayl smiled, moving so she could see the assault.
A pair of the humans stood athwart an intersection of two corridors. Two of her people were already fighting them, while four more charged along the corridor as she watched.
Then a third human appeared, casting what looked like a rock toward the charging warriors. White fire burst out, wreathing the kobolds in flame and death. They screamed and fell, writhing in brief, agonising death.
Yusdrayl sucked breath into her snout, her yellow eyes narrowing. These folk had magic, did they? They would learn that the Dragonborn did, as well.
She spoke, and two shards of energy flew from her fingers to strike the man who had cast the fire. He shouted and stepped back out of sight, limping slightly from the injury.
Seeing the man's retreat, the warriors of the tribe surged forward again, one of the bravest lancing his spear deep into his enemy's thigh. Bright, arterial blood flowed. Yusdrayl's nose twitched at the scent. The injured human stumbled back, his hand falling to the injury, trying to staunch the flow of blood. A howl rose from her people as they saw victory.
And then the lead-most warrior exploded, his body shattered by the strange metal wands held by the humans. Another fighter seemed to lose his senses, running past the fighting men, without a thought to defend himself. He fell, skull shattered by a blow from a pick, and the howl turned to a moan of despair.
Yusdrayl summoned her magic as fast as she could, sending blast after blast of energy against the foe. Surely they must fall eventually.
But they did not, and her people continued to die. One by one, they fell, until the intersection was choked with their bodies. Yusdrayl's magic began to falter, and she switched to a less potent spell, still fighting on despite the cold certainty in her heart. She would die this day.
"If only the accursed goblins had not stolen Calcryx -" she hissed, flinging a ray of cold at her foes. "- we would feast on your bones."
One of the humans raised his wand, and there was a noise like a dragon's roar.
* * *
"Damn, there was a lot o' those little bastards." Floyd wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing half-dried blood across his skin. "Any of 'em still moving?"
"Not by themselves." Beverly kicked the corpse of the last to fall, a wizened female who had thrown magical bolts against them. "Nasty looking things." She paused and giggled, "Did you see the one I waved at? It came running straight by you. Stupid beast."
"Treasure." Fabio interjected, waving from the far end of the long hall. Beverly and Floyd approached, leaving Smith to the job of collecting the creature's collection of coins.
Their long-haired companion had found a small altar, on which sat a number of items.
"Well, lookee here." Floyd picked up an old iron key. Under a slight tarnish of rust, a carved dragon's head could be seen on the handle.
"What about it?" Beverly wrinkled her nose, "It's dirty."
"Before y'all came here, there were a door we found as we couldn't open. Had a dragon on it. Ah'd say we all just found the key." Floyd tucked the item away, as well as the other objects on the altar. "Let's check what else we can find in these parts, then head back there."
* * *
"Oh yes." The goblin prisoner gabbled in broken Common, nervously cringing away from the corpse of the creature beside it, "Very interested learn Book of Mormon. Book of Mormon very good."
"I knew these translations of the Book would come in handy." Smith smiled in satisfaction.
"Do you really believe it?" Beverly looked up from filing her nails, "I mean, you just killed its friends. It's hardly likely to say 'no'."
"God will punish his transgression if he lies."
"Right." The young blonde rolled her eyes and yawned, "Look, can we get on with this? I'm bored."
Handing his new convert a leather-bound copy of the Book of Mormon, Smith led the way out of the jail room, back into the main kobold hall.
"So, one goblin you shot in the head, one you pushed into a pit trap, and one that managed to run off." Beverly mused, twirling a finger in her hair, "How do you think this one will die?"
"Runnin' away." Floyd tapped his pistol.
"He's a member of the brethren." Smith insisted, "We must trust him."
"Trust that?" Beverly sniffed, "I don't even trust you, Mr Skanky I've-Got-Four-Wives."