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Before the Rise of Tiamat
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<blockquote data-quote="Envisioner" data-source="post: 7946848" data-attributes="member: 6749263"><p>Walther is easily found; he was reading a book in a back room whose walls finished muffling whatever sounds would have made it through the decades of wax in his ears (figuratively speaking), and had no idea of the disaster taking place outside his safe and comfortable home. He's not particularly grateful in the short term for having been rousted out of his favorite chair, but you figure he'll eventually figure out that he owes you his life, even if he's quite possibly too proud to admit it. Truly, a good deed is its own reward; little wonder mercenary work attracts so many of your adventuring ilk.</p><p></p><p>Thanks to their detour, the two dwarves are among the last ten people to reach the keep. As the heavy iron gates are fastened behind them, the approaching army finally comes into view at the outer edge of town, lit by the torches that they begin throwing at people's thatch roofs. Oddly, the dragon is not in view, despite the fact that it could easily have reached the town long before the riders and footmen. The sun is long since down, but it's only now beginning to become truly dark, and this lasts only until the flames begin to catch in haystacks and such; within a few minutes, the defenders who look out through the arrow slits of the barbican can get a good look at the still-distant attackers. Mostly human with a generous handful of dragonborn, several elves, and at least one dwarf (if they have halfings or gnomes, these are probably still too far away to make out amid the throng, the intruding force are primarily clad in black armor, and several seem to be wearing some sort of elaborate masks. </p><p></p><p>Then a number of small bodies begin emerging from behind and between the walkers and horsemen; running with fearsome speed in spite of their diminutive stature, these creatures are quickly identified by their glinting red eyes. Though they like to refer to themselves as "the youngest children of the dragon-goddess", or <em>Zzh'hh-hk'-kk'let'chek </em>in their buzzing, hissing version of Draconic, these diminutive barbarians are well-known to the folk of the Realms under a much simpler name: "kobolds".</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Envisioner, post: 7946848, member: 6749263"] Walther is easily found; he was reading a book in a back room whose walls finished muffling whatever sounds would have made it through the decades of wax in his ears (figuratively speaking), and had no idea of the disaster taking place outside his safe and comfortable home. He's not particularly grateful in the short term for having been rousted out of his favorite chair, but you figure he'll eventually figure out that he owes you his life, even if he's quite possibly too proud to admit it. Truly, a good deed is its own reward; little wonder mercenary work attracts so many of your adventuring ilk. Thanks to their detour, the two dwarves are among the last ten people to reach the keep. As the heavy iron gates are fastened behind them, the approaching army finally comes into view at the outer edge of town, lit by the torches that they begin throwing at people's thatch roofs. Oddly, the dragon is not in view, despite the fact that it could easily have reached the town long before the riders and footmen. The sun is long since down, but it's only now beginning to become truly dark, and this lasts only until the flames begin to catch in haystacks and such; within a few minutes, the defenders who look out through the arrow slits of the barbican can get a good look at the still-distant attackers. Mostly human with a generous handful of dragonborn, several elves, and at least one dwarf (if they have halfings or gnomes, these are probably still too far away to make out amid the throng, the intruding force are primarily clad in black armor, and several seem to be wearing some sort of elaborate masks. Then a number of small bodies begin emerging from behind and between the walkers and horsemen; running with fearsome speed in spite of their diminutive stature, these creatures are quickly identified by their glinting red eyes. Though they like to refer to themselves as "the youngest children of the dragon-goddess", or [I]Zzh'hh-hk'-kk'let'chek [/I]in their buzzing, hissing version of Draconic, these diminutive barbarians are well-known to the folk of the Realms under a much simpler name: "kobolds". [/QUOTE]
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