Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 40

As soon as the second group of kobolds appeared Glori knew that she’d made a mistake. She reached for her lyre, hoping to get a second sleep spell off, but as the first kobold raised its knife she knew she wouldn’t get the chance.

“Glori!” Bredan yelled. She knew he’d be coming for her, but there was no time.

In desperation, she scraped her fingers wildly across the strings of the lyre, unleashing a chaos of sound from the instrument.

She didn’t expect anything to happen, but to her surprise the discordant notes built into a wave of sound that erupted outward from her. The pulse caught the first kobold up and physically hurled it across the room. It struck the wall of the cavern next to the passage and crumpled to the ground. The others that had been right behind it were all knocked to the floor. As she stared in surprise she saw that only one of them was moving, and that one was crawling feebly away, leaving a trail of blood that trickled from its nostrils and ears.

She turned to see Bredan staring at her with a look of surprise on his face. But she also saw a flash of movement behind him. “Look out!”

Bredan spun around. His sword barely caught the scimitar that swept out toward the backs of his legs. The kobold’s weapon shattered from the impact, and before it could get away the smith swept his huge blade around and severed its head from its shoulders.

The few kobolds left alive were in full flight, rushing or crawling toward the exits. After driving his final foe to the ground Kosk started after them, but he barely got half a dozen steps before a new combatant entered the fray.

Bredan had to do a double-take before he could believe what his eyes were telling him. The figure that strode forward into the room from the far passage was huge. He had to be eight feet tall, his head brushing the ceiling of the cavern, his shoulders as broad as a wagon’s axle. His features were clearly not human, his skin a mottled gray with a splayed nose the size of a dinner plate and too-large teeth bulging in his mouth. Bredan was reminded of Starfinder’s butler, but unlike Mog this creature had a weapon, a huge double-bladed axe that seemed to glow in his hand as it caught the light.

If Kosk was intimidated by this new adversary he didn’t show it. He immediately pivoted toward the giant and swept his staff around toward his left knee. The giant turned into the blow, absorbing the impact on his upper thigh. He countered with a sweep of his axe. In the close quarters he couldn’t get his full strength behind it, but the impact still struck the monk with devastating effect. Kosk was lifted off his feet and flung across the room. He landed hard and skidded to a stop near the fire pit. Bredan could see the bright red smear he’d left on the stone floor of the cavern.

Quellan ran to the fallen dwarf’s aid, while Bredan stepped forward to confront the giant. The creature took him in with one quick look, noting his mail coat and huge sword, and his lips twisted into a grim smile that highlighted his misaligned yellow teeth.

Then he leapt forward and swung his axe with a loud cry of battle.

Quellan grasped his holy symbol as he knelt beside Kosk. The dwarf’s side was still spurting blood from the deep gash just under his ribs. One look was enough to tell the cleric that his friend would die in moments without immediate intervention.

But Quellan did not have a chance to begin his spell before he felt a sudden lance of pain penetrate his side. He reflexively thrust his arm out, connecting with an unseen adversary who was knocked back a few steps. As the cleric turned to face the foe he saw a figure clad in a dark cloak over a coat made of mismatched fabrics. Their collision had knocked his attacker’s cowl back, revealing a visage out of a nightmare. He was humanoid, but his facial features were a confused jumble as chaotic as his coat. One side of his face was covered in uneven tufts of wiry black fur, while the other consisted of gray scales that extended from his jawbone up to his eye. The eyes were also different, one beady and yellow and the other the cloudy gray of smoke.

The mongrel-man lifted a short sword that glistened with Quellan’s blood. “There are few who can withstand my sting,” he said. “I will take my time carving you up, orc-kin, so you can listen as Jargo chops your friends to pieces.”

Quellan didn’t reach for his mace, but instead presented the holy symbol in his fist. The mongrelman tensed, but the cleric’s guiding bolt still caught him in one shoulder before he could shift out of the way. The creature stumbled back to the edge of the fire pit. He wasn’t seriously hurt, but his lips twisted in an angry snarl as the sparking radiance of the spell continued to shimmer around his body.

Bredan’s uncle had trained him to expect the unexpected when facing a foe, but even so the speed of his giant adversary took him by surprise. The clang of metal striking metal echoed through the cavern as their blades met, sending sharp jolts of pain up Bredan’s arms. He only just barely ducked under a follow-up stroke that would have cleaved his skull in two had it connected.

He tried to distract his foe with a desultory sweep at his legs, but the giant merely chuckled and tapped the sword aside with the shaft of his axe. The weapon had to be heavier than Bredan’s sword by a good margin, but the brute wielded it as though it was one of the wooden practice blades that he’d trained with behind the smithy.

The one advantage Bredan had was the low ceiling, which meant that the giant had to swing his axe sideways and couldn’t rely on the power of an overhead strike. But that constrained the smith just as much, and as he was driven back he had to be alert to the danger of clipping his blade on the cavern walls.

He pivoted back toward the center of the room, but the axe blade was there to meet him. He caught it in a full parry that drove his sword back into his own body from the sheer force of impact, but the layered mail of his hauberk protected him from being cut by his own weapon, and the stamina granted by the magical potion let him shrug off the effects of the hit. He caught the head of the axe behind the edge of his sword, and for a moment the two warriors were drawn close together. Bredan tried to pull the giant in even closer so he could drive the pommel of his sword into his face, but Jargo saw the gambit coming and held his ground easily.

“You’re good, but not good enough,” the creature said.

Bredan tensed, expecting him to either yank his axe clear or try to jam it into his body, but the giant did something else unexpected. Jargo released one hand from his weapon and let the other slide down to the very end of the haft, then stepped back and drove his boot into Bredan’s belly.

Bredan was not a small man, but the kick drove the air from his body and launched him across the room. He hit the floor and slid, coming to a stop in front of the entrance passage where the fight had begun just moments before. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see the giant striding effortlessly toward him.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 41

Jargo’s approach toward his staggered foe was interrupted as an arrow thudded into his coat. But he only spared Glori a desultory glance before returning his focus to Bredan. “When I’m finished with you,” he growled, “I will deal with your woman.”

Bredan felt a sudden calm fall over him. His hand tightened on the hilt of his father’s sword. He flashed back to the courtyard behind the smithy, where he and his uncle had spent countless hours practicing with every kind of weapon the elder Karras could either get his hands on or simulate with blocks of wood. This giant was unlike any foe that Bredan had ever faced, but the axe was just another weapon. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and he could see in his mind how the giant would place his foot, how he would shift his weight as he placed his strength behind an unblockable sweep of that deadly edge.

Bredan sprang up and swept his sword into the giant’s path. He wasn’t sure if it was the potion or the adrenaline rushing through his body, but the weapon suddenly felt as light as the wooden practice blades he had trained so long with. Jargo met the blade and parried it easily, bringing his axe up to chop the edge into his adversary’s throat as the weight of his sword pulled him inevitably around. But Bredan kept control, continuing his pivot and spinning down into a crouch even as the axe carved the air where he’d been just a moment before. The half-ogre realized his mistake and released the axe to drive his foe back with a punch to the face that likely would have shattered the smith’s nose if not his skull. But even as the massive fist started forward Bredan finished his spin and thrust forward and upward with all his strength. His father’s sword slid into the giant’s body. Jargo convulsed and let out a bloody cough. The fist that had had so much power behind it just an instant before bounced off the smith’s armored forehead without effect. With a feral growl Bredan drove the sword deeper into his enemy. The half-ogre that had seemed so deadly just heartbeats earlier stumbled back and then crumpled to the floor.

On the far side of the room, Quellan and his opponent witnessed the whole exchange. The glow from the guiding bolt had faded, leaving the pair facing off with their normal weapons, but as Jargo slumped to the ground his companion darted back and fled into one of the passages in the back of the cavern. Quellan didn’t bother to try to chase him, but instead turned back to Kosk and stabilized him with his final cure wounds spell.

Glori went over to Bredan with a look of concern on her face. “Are you okay?”

With an obvious effort Bredan tore his sword from the dead warrior’s body. “Yeah.”

“I’m out of healing spells, but I still have my potion…”

“Save it. I’m getting my second wind.” He thought of all the times his uncle had forced him to fight through bruises and cuts and strains, and silently thanked him. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, a little surprised not to see any blood. “That spell, with the kobolds… what was that?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t know the lyre could do that.”

A groan followed by a familiar curse drew their attention back over to the far side of the room. “Kosk!” Glori said. “Is he okay?” she asked Quellan.

“I’m fine,” the dwarf said. He was still lying on his back but appeared to be intact and alert. His wound had closed, but he still looked pale. “That big bastard… you got him?”

“Yeah, I got him,” Bredan said. “We got him,” he amended with a look toward Glori.

“Good,” the dwarf said. Ignoring Quellan’s cautioning hand, he pulled himself to his feet. “Where’s my staff?” he asked.

Glori stepped in front of him. “Here,” she said, offering him her potion of healing. “Drink this, you can barely stand.”

“I said I was fine.”

“And I said you can barely stand. I’m not offering this to be nice. A number of the kobolds got away during the fight, and I saw that guy that stabbed Quellan take off too. If we run into them again, I don’t want you going down if one of them breathes on you too heavily.”

The dwarf glared at her, but he accepted the vial.

“Speaking of that,” Glori continued, “Quellan, you’d better drink your potion too, if you are out of healing spells.”

The cleric blinked, then as if just remembering his wound he glanced down at the bloody trail trickling down his side. A pool of blood had gathered beneath him just in the few moments he’d been helping Kosk. He quickly pressed his hand against his side to staunch the flow of blood. “I used my potion to save Kosk in the shrine, in the fight against the mephit.”

“Of course you did,” Bredan said. He stepped forward and produced his vial.

“You need that more…” Quellan began, but Bredan quickly interrupted him. “I’m fine,” the smith said, tapping his chest. “Trained warrior. Second wind. Now please drink this before you bleed to death.”

After a moment the cleric nodded and accepted the potion. He drained its contents in a single swallow, and let out a sigh of relief as it worked its magic.

Thus fortified, the companions turned to an exploration of the cavern.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 42

Quellan recovered his light stone and used it to push back the gloom that lingered in the back part of the cavern. The spell’s glow revealed a total of four exits around the perimeter of the room, all of which were far back from the entrance and the chimney over the fire pit.

“The kobolds fled via those two,” Kosk said, indicating the two leftmost exits. “There’s probably another lair further back.”

“The creature that attacked me went that way,” Quellan said, pointing to the passage furthest to the right. “It seems pretty clear that he and the half-ogre were in charge here.”

“That was a half-ogre?” Bredan asked.

“Indeed,” the cleric replied. “An uncommon combination, but possessed of incredible physical strength and stamina, as you saw.”

“Yeah,” Bredan said, with another look at his fallen foe.

“Did you check to see if he had anything on him?” Glori asked. She started to head over to the corpse, but Kosk said, “You can loot the bodies later. Every second we waste here is time for the kobolds to rally and set up another line of defense.”

“You think they’ll still put up a fight after what just happened here?” Bredan asked.

“They’re kobolds,” Kosk said. He made their decision by marching over to the leftmost exit, the one that the kobold ambushers had appeared from, though he waited for the others to follow before continuing ahead.

None of them spotted the dark figure that appeared from one of the other passages. The figure waited until they had headed into the dwarf’s chosen exit before he slipped through the room, making his way silently toward the tunnel that led outside. A large sack bulged under his cloak, but the extra weight gave him no difficulty. Within moments, he was gone.

The four adventurers came to a short flight of steps that deposited them on the edge of another cave. This one was maybe half the size of the main lair, but it seemed even smaller because of the low ceiling. A potent stink filled the air. A pool of water stood just off to their left. Beyond it the floor rose to meet the ceiling until the clearance between them was less than four feet.

Crowded into that space was a small horde of kobolds. It was difficult to count them all in the close confines but it looked like there were at least a few dozen of them. The creatures blinked and skittered back as the light in Quellan’s hand penetrated back into their hidey-hole.

“Time to finish this,” Kosk said.

“Wait a moment,” Quellan said. “Look at them, they’re no threat.”

A closer look at the survivors of the tribe seemed to bear out the cleric’s comment. Only a few of the kobolds carried weapons, and from the wounds they bore those were the survivors of the fight in the outer lair. The others ranged from slightly smaller than the warrior males to half their size. The females and young cringed back against the far wall of the cave.

“They’re terrified,” Glori said.

“They’re kobolds,” Kosk said, his voice thick with anger. “What do you think those little ones are going to do when they grow up?”

“We can’t even fit back there,” Bredan said. It was clear from the look on his face he shared the reluctance of the cleric and bard.

“That’s what the crossbow is for,” Kosk said. “If you don’t want to do it, give it to me.”

“We’re not murderers,” Glori said.

“Careful!” Bredan warned, as several of the kobolds shuffled forward. The kobolds flinched as the adventurers lifted their weapons, but after a moment continued their approach. They were carrying something that they put down near the edge of the pool before retreating back to the edge of the crowd. The object was a shallow copper bowl that was filled with an assortment of copper and silver coins.

“An offering?” Glori asked.

“A bribe,” Kosk said.

“Do any of you speak Common?” Quellan asked.

A stir went through the kobolds, accompanied by yapping in low voices that didn’t sound promising. “What language do they speak?” Bredan asked.

“Draconic,” Glori said.

“Which none of us understands,” Kosk pointed out.

After a moment one of the kobolds shuffled forward again, obviously reluctant. Smears of blood covered its face, suggesting it was the one who had survived Glori’s thunderwave. “I speaks some hooman,” it said.

“Ask them about the boy?” Glori prodded.

Quellan nodded. “Is there a boy here? A human boy?”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s here and treated like royalty,” Kosk muttered.

The kobold looked between them, clearly not understanding. “The boy… a captive?” Quellan said. When the kobold just looked at him blankly he added, “Prisoners? Are there prisoners here?”

The kobold let out a sharp bark. “Prissner! Yes! Jargo and Cthel keep. In chief cave.”

“Jargo and Cthel, that would be our friends from back there, I expect,” Glori said.

“We killed the big one,” Quellan said. He made a ferocious expression and then mimed holding an axe, then pointed to Bredan and his sword. “Our warrior killed him.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Kosk said.

The kobold let out an angry hiss that was echoed by those behind him. “Jargo bad, we hates Jargo!” the creature said. “Jargo kill chief, pull off head!”

“Is the boy alive?” Quellan asked. “Prissner alive?”

At the kobold’s eager nod Glori said, “We’d better find him before this ‘Cthel’ decides to use him as a bargaining chip.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Bredan asked, gesturing toward the kobold. “I may not agree fully with Kosk, but the fact remains that they most likely killed that hunter from the village, if not more people.”

“That could have been the leaders’ doing,” Quellan said.

“And even if they did, we’re not like them,” Glori said.

“You know what I bloody think,” Kosk said.

Quellan slipped forward into the low space of the cave. The kobolds drew back, but the half-orc only took hold of the bowl and slid it over to where Bredan waited. “You will turn over all of your weapons,” the cleric said, his voice heavy and low. “You will stay here until we leave, and then you will depart this place and never return. I do not care where you go, as long as it is away from the human lair beyond these hills.” As he spoke his voice deepened and the sound of it echoed off the walls, an effect similar to the one he’d created in their initial intrusion into the lair. Glori, seeing what he was doing, strummed her lyre and created a minor magical illusion. A softly-glowing radiance shimmered into being around the half-orc. Within it Quellan seemed to swell outward, his visage taking on an added ferocity and his eyes glowing red. “You must swear by your god Kurtulmak that you will not threaten any humans again, or I will come for you!”

The kobolds were now crawling over each other in a general panic, one that ebbed only fractionally as the cleric finished his declaration. They might not have understood everything he said, but the threat definitely got across. When Bredan stepped forward and said, “Weapons! Now!” there was a general stir and then a few knives and clubs were tossed forward to land at his feet. The smith swept them all up and tossed them into the bowl.

“You’re all bloody nuts,” Kosk said, but he remained with the others as they left the cave behind and returned to the outer lair.

With the knowledge that the mysterious and dangerous “Cthel” might still be lurking ahead the companions moved into the other part of the complex. Unlike most of the rest of the kobold lair this passage was large enough to accommodate all of them comfortably, making it obvious why the half-ogre and his confederate had chosen it for themselves. They passed a small chamber that was empty save for some scraps of wood and a few empty sacks of torn canvas. A passage in the back of the room led back to the main lair, while to their right a set of natural stone steps ascended a steep shaft to another cavern above.

“Supply room, maybe,” Bredan said, peering into the side-room.

“Nothing left,” Glori said. “Looks like our big friend was eating the kobolds out of house and home.”

Kosk just grunted and started up the stairs. Glori followed him, with Quellan and Bredan just a few steps behind.

The cleric’s stone revealed a long, irregular cavern that extended into darkness. This place had been left more or less as nature had created it, down to the stalagmites and stalactites that extended along the walls. The only compromise to comfort had been a cleared space in the center of the cave where a table and two chairs had been set up. The furnishings were obviously sized for creatures significantly larger than kobolds.

“Looks like someone left in a hurry,” Kosk said, pointing to an open chest along the wall to the left of the stairs. A few objects were scattered around the chest, and a bulky fur hung from the side of the container.

The dwarf found out that wasn’t all they’d left as he stepped forward and tripped a thin, almost invisible wire stretched across the top of the stairs. There was a loud click, followed by a deluge of rocks that plummeted down from above.

 

[carborundum]

Rocks fall...? ;-)
I've been busy, so I just got to read four in a row - loving it! Thanks, Lazybones!

 

[Lazybones]

Rocks fall...? ;-)
I've been busy, so I just got to read four in a row - loving it! Thanks, Lazybones!

Thanks for the post, carborundum!

* * *

Chapter 43

As soon as he felt the pressure of the wire on his shin Kosk launched himself forward. He landed in a tumble and rolled to his feet as the head-sized stones that had been carefully stacked on a shelf over the entrance struck the floor and started bouncing down the steps. He hadn’t gotten through unscathed, but ignored the painful twinges in his shoulder and hip as he scanned the darkness ahead for threats.

As soon as the rocks started falling Quellan grabbed hold of Glori and yanked her back out of the area of the trap. He felt a sharp pain as one of the rocks bounced off his shin, but didn’t flinch as he sheltered the bard with his body. Bredan let out a curse but kept his footing as the stones continued their noisy passage down the stairs before rolling to a stop in the passage below.

“Are you all right?” Quellan asked.

“Yeah,” Glori said. “Thanks. Again.”

“Kosk, are you okay?” Bredan called up.

“Bloody wonderful,” the dwarf shot back. “No sign of the bastard.”

The others hurried up to join him. “Bet your scaly little pals sent up a cheer when they heard that,” Kosk growled.

“I bet they’re already a mile away by now,” Bredan said.

Glori had headed over toward the chest, but abruptly drew back. “Crap,” she said.

“What is it?” Bredan asked, only to recoil as he got a whiff of the same stink.

“Literally crap, I think,” Glori said. “It looks like someone dumped a chamber pot in there.”

“If I can’t have it, no one can?” Quellan asked.

“Looks like our friends paused to grab their loot before heading down to meet us,” Kosk said.

“If so, they still might have it on them,” Glori said. She’d turned halfway back toward the stairs before Quellan stopped her. “The boy, first,” he said.

“Right.”

They started forward again. The cave extended for quite a ways, becoming more irregular and rough as they pushed on. They passed a pair of rough bedrolls, mounds of cloth and fur that stank almost as badly as the foul mess that had been dumped in the chest. Finally the light revealed the back of the cave, the rough wall obscured by a small forest of mineral formations.

“I think I saw something moving over there!” Glori hissed, pointing into one irregular corner where the light didn’t quite reach.

They readied their weapons, but no threat emerged from the shadows. Quellan finally bent and tossed his stone forward. The glowing rock skittered across the floor, coming to a stop at the base of one of the larger stalagmites.

The light revealed the prisoner. It wasn’t a boy, but a full-grown woman. She was securely tied with ropes around her ankles, knees, and elbows, with her hands secured in what had to be a painful tension behind her back. She was gagged, with another rope fastened around her throat that connected to the mineral pillar and kept her from lying down.

But what caught their attention most immediately was her appearance. She might have been human, save for the obvious red tint to her skin, brighter and deeper than any sunburn, and the pale horns that jutted from her forehead and twisted back in tight curves above her ears.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 44

Bredan started forward toward the bound woman, but Kosk stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Careful. She’s a tiefling. Fiendspawn.”

“She’s a prisoner,” Glori said.

“Yes, and we don’t know why she’s here,” the dwarf said. “Her kind are dangerous.”

The woman could clearly hear their exchange but only watched silently, her only movement the shifting of her chest with each breath. Her clothes looked like they might have been of good quality once, but now were rather the worse for wear.

Bredan pulled away from Kosk’s grasp. He turned to Glori and extended a hand, nodding toward her belt. After just a moment’s hesitation she drew out her dagger and handed it over hilt-first. The smith took it and headed over to the prisoner. Kosk didn’t stand in his way, but he shifted to the side in a meaningful move to give him clear access if anything happened.

Bredan knelt before the tiefling woman. “We’re not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m going to cut you free, okay?” At her nod he leaned forward and severed the rope connecting her to the stalagmite. She slumped forward, wincing as the motion sent twinges through obviously strained muscles. But she managed to scoot herself up and turned so he could get at the ropes binding her wrists and elbows.

Once Bredan had cut those bindings she extended her arms and flexed her fingers. She reached up—moving slowly, obviously not trying to provoke them—and undid the gag. “Do you have water?” she asked.

Glori handed over her flask, and she drank deeply before handing it back. “Thank you,” she said. Bredan had left her legs tied, but she didn’t ask him to cut the remaining bonds just yet.

“What are you doing here?” Kosk asked.

“I thought it would be obvious,” the tiefling said.

“I’m Glori, by the way. The sour dwarf is Kosk, the looming mountain over there is Quellan, and the dashing warrior who freed you is Bredan.”

The woman looked at each of them in turn with a slightly bemused expression. “I am Xeeta.”

“That’s an unusual name,” Glori said.

“Not where I’m from.”

“And where is that, exactly?” Kosk asked.

“From the south. The Island Kingdoms.”

“You’re a long way from home,” the dwarf said.

“Yes.”

“I think what my friend was getting at before,” Quellan said, “Is how you came to be captured by the kobolds.”

Xeeta let out a deep sigh. “Stupidity and bad luck, I suppose. I was traveling through the hills near here and became fatigued. I came upon a campsite that looked like it was used fairly often, so I assumed that meant the region was safe. I normally am a fairly light sleeper, but they caught me unawares.”

“You were traveling alone?” Kosk asked.

She straightened at that, though it had to cause her at least some pain to do so, especially with her legs still bound. “Yes. For some reason, many people don’t feel inclined to trust me.”

“I understand,” Quellan said, and something in the way he said it had her looking at him again. “Bredan, you should free her legs, those ropes must be uncomfortable.”

“Quite so,” Xeeta said. She waited until Bredan cut the remaining few lengths of rope, then she sighed and extended her legs. Her trousers were cut in several places, showing that the reddish tint to her skin extended over her entire body. There were also a number of places where her clothes were marked with old bloodstains. “I think I will wait a moment before trying to stand up, if that’s okay with you.”

“How long have you been here?” Glori asked.

“A few days. Though it feels like longer.”

“We came here looking for a boy,” Quellan said. “A human child of eleven years who went missing from a nearby village.”

“I haven’t seen any other prisoners since I’ve been here,” Xeeta said. “I assume you ran into Jargo and Cthel. Are they dead?”

“The half-ogre is,” Kosk said. “The boy killed him,” he added, nodding toward Bredan.

Xeeta smiled, revealing teeth that were slightly pointed, and Bredan flushed. “The mongrelman got away,” Quellan said. “He might have gotten past us.”

Xeeta nodded. “He’s stealthy, that one.”

“What were they doing here?” Glori asked.

“From what I could overhear, they arrived here a couple of weeks ago. Killed the kobolds’ chief and took over the tribe. They’ve been sponging off them ever since.”

“We figured it was something like that,” Quellan said.

“Did they talk about any plans?” Glori asked. “Raids they might have been planning, that sort of thing.”

“Not specifically, but recently I overheard them talking about moving on. Something about trouble in the north, and opportunities for a ‘big score.’”

The companions shared a look. “The King’s proclamation,” Glori said. “They must have heard about it.”

“Proclamation?” Xeeta asked.

“There’s been an invasion, near Adelar,” Bredan said. “An army of goblinoids burned some villages and killed a bunch of people. The King’s called for aid. We were headed that way when we heard about the missing boy.”

“I see.”

“You hadn’t heard anything about that?” Kosk asked.

“I don’t spend much time in settlements, for obvious reasons.”

“That sounds lonely,” Glori said.

Xeeta blinked at her in surprise, but said nothing.

Kosk cleared his throat. “It’s clear that the boy isn’t here. Let’s finish our sweep and get out of here.”

“Did Jargo and Cthel have any treasure hidden around here?” Glori asked Xeeta.

“They had a cache under a rock near where they sleep, but I think they took it with them before they left to confront you.”

“How much you want to bet that shifty bastard has it all with him now?” Bredan said.

Xeeta tried to stand up, only to sag as her legs gave out under her. Bredan took hold of her and held her upright. “Thank you,” she said. “Do you mind if I accompany you, at least to this village you spoke of?”

“The locals there might not be welcoming,” Kosk cautioned.

“We can speak on your behalf,” Quellan said.

“That might not be necessary,” Xeeta said. She waved a hand and spoke a word that reverberated softly in the air before vanishing from their memories. The air in front of her shimmered, and her appearance changed. She was still more or less the same size and shape, but her tiefling features were gone, replaced by a milky-pale skin, light blonde hair, and green eyes. Her horns disappeared, and when she smiled her teeth looked normal.

“You’re a wizard!” Glori exclaimed.

“A sorcerer, actually,” Xeeta said. “My powers are innate.”

Kosk had shifted into a ready stance as soon as the tiefling had begun her spell, and he only relaxed slightly when it became clear she wasn’t going to unleash some nasty destructive magic. “I knew it,” he muttered.

“By any chance, have you seen a rod of black wood, about the length of my arm?” Xeeta asked.

“No, but it might be in the crap box,” Glori said.

That drew a raised eyebrow, but no comment.

They made their way back out of the cave. Xeeta allowed Bredan to help her, though she did a good job of masking the obvious pain she felt as sensation returned to her battered limbs. Now that they knew what to look for they could easily see the stalagmite that had been shifted to conceal the bandit leaders’ treasure. Glori took a look inside the hollow space, which was just big enough to hold a small chest or other container. Now, of course, it was empty.

Once they returned to the outer room, Xeeta went over to examine the open chest. On detecting the mess that the bandits had left behind her nose wrinkled and she muttered, “Animals.” But she had no difficulty reaching into the chest and pulling out a black rod. It was smeared with filth, but she held it out and summoned her magic. Her eyes seemed to flash and wisps of flame erupted from her fingers clenched around the wooden shaft. They traveled up and down the length of the rod, scouring it clean without inflicting any apparent damage on the wood.

“Is any of this other stuff yours?” Glori asked.

“No,” Xeeta said. “This is all I need.”

“I think we could have used you earlier,” Bredan said.

“Let’s go,” Kosk said.

“The kobolds have been destroyed, I presume?” Xeeta asked as they started back down the stairs. The tiefling woman was moving more easily now, though she still held onto one wall for support as she negotiated the steps.

“We killed most of the warriors,” Glori said. “The rest we let go.”

Xeeta glanced quickly at each of them in turn, noting the dwarf’s scowl in particular, but made no comment.

The main lair was as they had left it. There was no sign of its former inhabitants, or the mongrelman rogue.

Xeeta walked across the room until she was standing over Jargo. She muttered something in a harsh, guttural language, the abruptly raised the rod and smashed it down into the dead warrior’s face. She delivered several more blows in rapid succession, then drew back, breathing heavily. Bredan had started to step toward her, a hand raised to offer support, but he hesitated.

Glori came around the other side of the half-ogre. “Big surprise, his purse is gone,” she reported.

“Thieving little bastards,” Kosk muttered.

“We accomplished what we came here to do,” Quellan said.

“Did we?” the dwarf asked.

“We’ll find the boy,” the cleric said. “We swore an oath.”

Bredan sidled slightly closer to Xeeta. “Are you okay?”

The tiefling took a deep, steadying breath, and then straightened. “I’m fine. I’m ready to leave this place now.”

They filed toward the exit. None of them looked back.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 45

Xeeta stared at herself in the tiny mirror.

The mirror was of poor quality and showed a slightly blurred image, but the distinctive features of her heritage were clearly visible. The clothes were new, and cheaper than what she’d been wearing, but they were clean and sturdy. Between that and the natural imperfections in the mirror she could almost imagine that the face she saw belonged to a stranger. Almost.

She turned away and looked around the room. It was also tiny, though clean and neat. The proprietor of the Gray Oak Inn clearly put a lot of effort into his accommodations, even out here in the middle of nowhere.

Her gaze swept back to the basin under the mirror and the small purse that sat upon its edge. It held only a handful of silver and copper coins. Her rescuers had agreed to give her a share of the money they’d taken from the kobolds. It was generous, especially since she’d done nothing to earn such a reward, but she couldn’t help but think back to earlier days. When she’d left Li Syval she’d had a purse full of platinum trade marks and electrum obots, along with fine clothes trimmed in silver thread and a dagger with an opal embedded in the hilt.

That was a long time ago.

She shook off the memories of the past, angry at herself. She had long since stopped allowing herself to wallow in what might have been. It was well past time to embrace reality.

She looked back at the mirror, challenging the face staring back at her. Finally she lifted a hand, spoke the words of magic that summoned her power. The image in the mirror blurred again, but this time it was replaced by a new face, one with pale skin, a normal shade, framed with gentle curls instead of twisting horns.

She reached out and took both the purse and her rod. Two steps were sufficient to bring her to the door and the hallway beyond. She didn’t bother locking the door behind her. It wasn’t as if she had anything worth stealing.

A few more steps, simple enough, thought they felt harder than the first. Finally she was standing in front of another door. She could hear the sounds of activity from the common room drifting up from the stairs at the end of the hall. She normally didn’t enjoy crowds, but at that moment those noises pulled at her like a magnet tugging on iron shavings. Her disguise would last for an hour, plenty of time to go down and enjoy a glass of wine or a bite of food and pretend she was normal.

You’re being a coward, she berated herself. She reached up and rapped on the door.

The response came at once. “Come in.”

Bredan’s room was only slightly larger than hers, though it had an actual table and two chairs crowded into a corner. The warrior was seated in one of those chairs, while Glori sat on the bed with her legs tucked under her.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Xeeta said when she saw the half-elf woman.

“You’re not intruding,” Glori said. “I was just about to head down to the common room, if you were looking to talk with Bredan alone…” There was a hint of something in her tone that had the warrior—gods, he was really just a boy—coloring up his neck to his ears.

“It’s quite all right,” Xeeta said, coming into the room enough so she could close the door behind her. “I’d like to speak with both of you, actually.”

“Would you like to sit?” Bredan asked. At her nod he took the other chair and turned it around so it faced into the center of the room.

“Thank you. I understand you’re going to continue your search for the missing boy tomorrow.”

“Yes, there are a few more sites on our list,” Glori said. “Apparently this village is surrounded by abandoned houses and old ruins.”

“This whole region was once part of the Mai’i Empire,” Xeeta said. “The nature of its collapse left a great deal of wreckage behind.”

“So we’ve been told,” Bredan said.

“I take it you’d like to come with us?” Glori asked.

Xeeta was not often caught off guard, but she blinked in surprise and betrayed a moment’s hesitation before nodding.

“We could use another spellcaster,” Bredan said.

Glori and Xeeta continued to match stares. “You’ll need to convince Quellan and Kosk,” the bard said.

“I know. I thought maybe you could speak for me.”

“Why would they object?” Bredan asked.

The two woman shared a knowing look. Bredan was about to say more, but saw that something more was going on and held his tongue.

“They’ll want to know why,” Glori said.

“I thought about using the argument of my debt to you, for freeing me from those bastards.” She indicated her new clothes. “For helping me get back, for everything.”

“That we would have done for anyone,” Glori said.

“Yes. Yes, I see that. Even Kosk would have done that, maybe.”

“So since you’re not going that way, what reason did you decide on?”

“The truth. It seemed appropriate.”

“And that truth?” Glori asked. Bredan thought that she already knew the answer, but needed to hear it. He looked over at Xeeta, who nodded as if she’d come to the same conclusion.

“I have nowhere else to go.”

“We’re probably not going to find anything at this old estate,” Glori said. “And our road eventually leads north.”

“Well then, I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Xeeta said.

“I expect the others will want to hear more about your story,” Glori said.

Xeeta nodded again, clearly unsurprised. “It’s not a tale I wish to recollect, but it is a fair request.”

Glori looked at her a moment longer than sprang up. “I think that Quellan and Kosk are in the common room. We can…”

But even as Bredan and Xeeta started to get up they could hear someone approaching. It was impossible to miss the distinctive tread of the cleric ascending the narrow steps of the inn; even though Quellan tried to be unobtrusive it was hard to conceal six feet and three hundred pounds of armored half-orc. Glori went over and opened the door to the room.

“Ah, Bredan, Glori, I was looking for you,” the cleric said when he appeared in the doorway. If he was surprised to see the tiefling there he quickly recovered. “Miss Xeeta,” he said.

“Xeeta wants to go with us tomorrow,” Bredan said.

“Oh? Your aid would be welcome.”

“I told you,” Bredan said.

“I would not wish to insert tension in your relationship with your companion,” Xeeta said.

Quellan waved a hand. “Kosk’s bark is worse than his bite. He’s more tolerant than he seems. After all, he accepted a half-breed as his friend.”

“You’re more than your bloodline,” Glori said.

“Thank you,” Quellan said. “I would say that the same applies to you, Miss Xeeta. Don’t be alarmed if Kosk treats you with caution, or even suspicion, that is just his way. Master Karras received much the same treatment at first.”

“I don’t see how that’s changed,” Bredan muttered.

“I understand that trust is something that must be earned,” Xeeta said. “I appreciate being given the chance to earn it.”

“You came up here to tell us something, Quellan?” Glori asked.

“Oh, yes. The mother of the local notable… Anthernorn… she sought us out, spoke to Kosk and me downstairs. She wants to help us in our investigation of the old abandoned estate.”

“News travels fast,” Bredan said. “We only just briefed the council about the bandits a little while ago.”

“Small town,” Glori said.

“I got the impression that Althea—that’s her name—is the real driving force behind the family,” Quellan said. “She strikes me as the kind of woman who knows everything that happens within her demesne.”

“I’m familiar with that sort,” Xeeta said. “What kind of aid is she offering?”

“She wants to send one of her family retainers with us tomorrow morning.”

“The one with the sword that we saw earlier?” Bredan asked. “That first time we met with the local council?”

“That’s the one,” Quellan said. “His name is Colum, and apparently he knows the area quite well.”

“Is he any good?” Glori asked. “Can he handle himself?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Quellan said.

“What did Kosk say to this offer?” Bredan asked.

Quellan smiled. “I believe he is interested in expediting our trip so we can resume our travel north.”

Bredan snorted. “Yeah, I bet that’s exactly what he said.”

“Should I go speak to him now?” Xeeta asked.

“Let me,” Quellan said. “Perhaps you’ll come down and join us for a drink later? We’ll likely get an early start tomorrow, but I think we’ve earned a moment’s respite.”

“I can come down for a little while,” Xeeta said. She made a gesture with her hand that highlighted the changes to her features.

Glori nodded; she understood. “I was thinking of turning in,” she said. “Especially since I know what Kosk’s definition of ‘early start’ means.”

“I’ll buy you a drink, Xeeta,” Bredan said, but as he got up he hesitated. “Should I bring my sword down or leave it in the room?”

“I think we’re safe in an inn common room,” Quellan said.

“I don’t know, I’ve been in some pretty wild inns in my time,” Glori said.

“I can almost hear Kosk’s voice in my head,” Bredan said. “Should I be worried about that?”

Xeeta allowed a small smile at the interplay. “I can protect you, if need be,” she said. She snapped her fingers and a wisp of flame rose from her hand, dancing in her grasp for a moment before dissolving into nothing.

“Well, I guess I can skip the flint and steel at the next campfire,” Bredan said with a grin. He’d finally decided on taking the sword, tucking the baldric under his arm. He stuck out his other elbow toward the tiefling. “Shall we, then?”

After a moment Xeeta took his arm, and they headed downstairs.

“I think she likes him,” Glori said when they were alone.

Quellan looked suddenly awkward. “I thought… you and Bredan…”

“We’re just friends,” Glori said.

“Ah. Well. I know you wanted to get some rest, so, ah, I’ll just go, then.” He started to turn toward the door.

“Quellan?”

He turned back. “Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re with us. Both you and Kosk. I don’t think we could have managed without you.”

“I’m glad too. Good night, Glori.”

“Good night, Quellan.”

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 46

“You sure this is a good idea?” Kosk asked Quellan as they prepared to set off.

The small company had gathered in the common room of the Gray Oak Inn. Olag Beetlebrim was standing behind the bar, watching as they checked their gear. Outside the front windows the village remained dark in the predawn gloom. Northpine remained asleep, even the hard-working farmers and artisans of the small community still abed at that early hour.

Besides the innkeeper, only a few of the locals had woken to see them off. Erron Laddrick was there, along with Comoran. Also present was Colum, the Anthernorn’s retainer. He had added a wool cloak against the morning chill, but it didn’t conceal the chain shirt he wore or the sword and dagger that hung from his hip. The man-at-arms was not very talkative, and merely checked his gear as he waited for them to leave.

Quellan knew that his friend wasn’t talking about the locals. He looked over at Xeeta, who was standing in the corner near the side door. She wore a cloak with the cowl pulled forward to conceal her features. The cleric understood; she was saving her magic against possible need and thus had not used her disguise self spell to conceal her true features. Comoran shot her a few curious looks, but he did not approach her.

“She hasn’t done anything that would cause us to doubt her story,” Quellan said.

“I’m sure you noticed that she didn’t tell us all that much, in the way of details,” Kosk noted. “Just that she grew up in the Isles, and had to leave when her sponsor or patron or whatever they call it died.”

“I have heard that a person has a right to their past,” Quellan said. “That they should be judged on who they are, not what they are.”

“You read that in one of your books?”

“Actually, I got it from a friend, one who is wiser than he lets on.”

Kosk muttered something under his breath.

“You have good instincts for knowing who to punch,” Quellan said. “I have good instincts for knowing who to trust.”

Kosk snorted, but didn’t offer any further argument. They’d spoken at length the night before, and not just about the decision to allow the tiefling woman to join them. Quellan knew that once a decision had been made, it was not in his friend’s manner to second-guess it; he just liked to complain.

Comoran came forward and lifted the icon of Sorevas that he wore. “I will call upon the god’s blessing to bring you success and keep you safe,” he said. “Normally we wait for the rising of the sun for the morning invocation…”

“Why don’t you wait, then,” Kosk said. “The rest of us are going to get moving.”

The priest stared after them as they filed out through the side door and made their way out of the village. This time their route would take them north and west, into a region of light forest and scattered hills. According to Colum they would reach the old mill after about two hours of walking, with the abandoned estate roughly another hour past that.

The track they were following looked like it had accommodated carts at one point, but now it was overgrown and disused. Laddrick had told them that sometimes Northpiners used to came out this way to cut wood or gather herbs, but that recently few went far from the security of the village, especially with the uncertainty of events surrounding the disappearance of the village boy and the death of the local hunter.

They certainly didn’t encounter anyone that morning. The sun was slow to rise, while a thin fog hung over the surrounding hills, obscuring visibility past half a mile or so. Kosk set his usual brisk pace. Colum carried a portable writing kit in a satchel he wore under his cloak, and he frequently took out a quill to make notations on the sheaf of maps he carried. But their new companion had no difficulty keeping up, and his eyes were in constant motion as they traveled, taking in every detail of the surrounding landscape.

They had been walking for maybe half an hour when they came to a copse of trees that extended along the length of the road. A row of stumps indicated that this was one of the spots where the villagers harvested wood. A small hand-cart had been left overturned by the edge of the path, the dense growth surrounding it suggesting it had been there for quite some time.

Kosk barely slowed, but Xeeta called out, “A moment. Colum, if we’re going to be traveling together it is only fair that I show you something about me.”

The man-at-arms turned toward her, but before she could continue Bredan said, “You should know that it’s not a problem for us.”

Colum didn’t say anything, and after a moment Xeeta reached up and drew back her cowl. The weak light of the morning was more than sufficient to reveal the bright coloration of her skin and the spirals of horn that extended from her temples.

The man-at-arms betrayed no panic or alarm; he just said, “Do the Anthernorns know, or the Council?”

“It’s not their concern,” Bredan said. He looked like he might say more, but Glori touched him lightly on the arm and he subsided.

Colum looked around at each of them in turn. Finally, he shrugged. “Don’t see how it affects the job I’ve been ordered to do,” he said.

“If that’s settled, then let’s keep moving,” Kosk said. “I want to get there and back before nightfall.”

They pressed on. The road grew more overgrown. They had no difficulty following it, but they had to switch to single file as the bushes and stalks of prickleburr pressed in from either side. The route meandered around low hills that were hardly obstacles at all compared to the rough landscape they had navigated over the last few days. The fog burned away but the sun remained hidden behind low clouds, leaving the day dim and gloomy.

They encountered the stream shortly before they came to the mill. The structure was sagging and decrepit, the large wooden wheel that had once powered the internal machinery lying broken on its side in the weeds. The spillway was overgrown with reeds and other growth that had opened gaping holes in the wooden framework.

The mill itself was in little better shape. The foundation was stone and had held up reasonably well, but the wooden boards of the upper level were warped and rotten. There were holes where iron fittings had been scavenged, and the main door was entirely gone, leaving a dark hole at the top of a short flight of stone steps that led into the interior. Other than the gurgle of the adjacent stream, the place was utterly silent.

Colum took out his writing kit and began sorting through his parchments. Kosk looked over at him and growled, “We’re not here to make maps.”

Without looking up, the man-at-arms said, “The child might have gone inside, fallen through the floor or gotten pinned under a beam.” He found the sheet he was looking for and took out a quill and a pot of ink that fit into a slot on the top of the wooden kit.

Kosk looked sour, but Quellan said, “Come on, let’s take a quick look.” He opened his hand and summoned forth light that shone from the palm of his glove.

The others started to follow them toward the entry, but Kosk held up a hand. “You lot stay here and keep an eye out,” he said. “This place isn’t that big, and it’ll only take us a moment to check it out.” Without waiting for a reply he followed Quellan inside.

“Your companion is not shy about sharing what he thinks,” Xeeta said. She went over to a wooden fencepost that no longer had a fence to go with it and leaned against it before taking out her waterskin.

“Yeah, he’s not shy,” Glori said. “And his people skills could use some… refinement. But he’s good in a fight.”

“When he’s not charging in alone to try to get himself killed,” Bredan said.

“You’ve been together for a while, then?” Xeeta asked.

“Not that long,” Bredan said. He walked over and found another orphaned post close to her. This one sagged under his weight and he quickly stepped clear before it would have dropped him on his backside. “We only joined up to find…”

“Wait, where’s Colum?” Glori interrupted.

“He walked over there, around the edge of the building,” Xeeta said. “I believe he was taking notations on the condition of the structure.”

Glori nodded, but after a moment said, “He should know better than to wander off alone.”

“I’ll go check on him,” Bredan said. But he’d only taken a few steps when they heard a loud, alien sound, a sharp chittering that they couldn’t quite classify. But they had no difficulty identifying the source of the scream that followed.

Bredan and Glori sprinted around the corner of the mill. They saw Colum at once, along with the source of the strange sound.

The man-at-arms was being held in the grasp of a praying mantis the size of a wagon. The thing had him pinned in its hooked arms, clutching him against its body as he struggled weakly to break free. Seeing Bredan and Glori, it spun around and trotted off with its prize.

The two couldn’t immediately follow, as a second creature emerged from the tall growth along the stream and charged at them.

 

[carborundum]

Giant insects! It's been a while since I used those. Thanks for the idea!

 

[Lazybones]

Giant insects! It's been a while since I used those. Thanks for the idea!

They are pretty challenging foes (CR3 in 3.5e). One conversion can be found at https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Giant_Mantis_(5e_Creature). Mine here weren't quite that tough, but it was still fortunate that the party didn't have to face both of them together...

* * *

Chapter 47

Bredan rushed forward to engage the giant insect before it could get to Glori. The second mantis was somewhat smaller than the first, the size of a cart rather than a wagon, but it still loomed over the warrior as the two closed to melee range.

The creature was incredibly fast, and it reached Bredan just as he was getting his sword clear of its scabbard. He tried to slash at it before it could strike, but one of its forelimbs lashed out and snagged the blade. The other limb snapped out to try to grab him the way its mate had grabbed Colum, but he managed to just duck under its grasp. For a moment the two combatants awkwardly wrestled over the sword, but then the mantis jerked back and launched the weapon flying into the stream. Pulled off balance, Bredan staggered to the side, disarmed and vulnerable.

An arrow stuck into the insect’s side. Glori’s shot distracted it for a moment, but the arrow had barely penetrated and as it twisted around the missile was knocked clear. It took another step toward Bredan, who’d managed to dig out his small work hammer from the kit of tools he carried. The weapon looked pathetically tiny against the massive scale of the creature, especially as it reared up in anticipation of another lunging attack.

But before the mantis could hurl itself forward again, there was a bright flash of light and heat. The insect stumbled back for a moment, its long limbs skittering on the packed earth that surrounded the mill, before turning toward the source of this new assault.

This time it didn’t hesitate, launching itself forward toward Xeeta.

The sorceress had just come around the corner of the building, and as the insect charged she ducked back behind that cover. The mantis followed, cutting the edge of the structure with a dexterity that belied its considerable size. As it rounded the mill it lifted its claws to attack its tormentor.

What it did not anticipate was finding a half-orc cleric standing there to meet it.

The priest slammed his mace into the mantis’s armored carapace. The blow knocked it back a step, and though it recovered they could all see the shattered plate that oozed gelatinous fluids from inside its body cavity. Glori tried to circle around to get a shot at that newly vulnerable location, but before she could finish the maneuver the mantis turned and lunged again at the cleric. Quellan stood his ground, lifting his shield to meet its charge.

But before the insect could reach him there was a massive crash from above. All of the combatants—even the bug—looked up as a segment of rotten boards from the upper level of the mill exploded outward and Kosk came flying out from the interior. The dwarf dropped faster than the mantis could react, landing hard on its back. His staff drove through its body, impaling it like a spear, and his weight overpowered the strength of its spindly legs. As it fell the dwarf rolled clear, leaving his weapon stuck through the dying creature.

The adventurers gathered to watch the creature die, careful to stay clear of the last violent twitches of its long limbs. Bredan was the last to arrive, dripping wet from recovering his sword. “The other one’s gone, with Colum,” he said.

His words stirred them back to the moment. “Is everyone else all right?” Quellan said. “Bredan?”

The young warrior shook his head. “Just wrenched my wrist a bit is all. I’m fine.”

“We have to go after Colum,” Glori said.

“Bug’s probably taking him back to its nest,” Kosk said. “If he’s not dead already, he will be soon.”

“We can’t just leave him,” Glori insisted.

“Even if he is dead, leaving such a creature alive so close to the village would be dangerous,” Quellan said.

“If it were me, I’d want you guys to come after me,” Bredan said.

“There could be more of those things where it’s going, more than we can handle,” Kosk said.

“All the more reason to deal with them now,” Quellan said. “What if they come on us on our way back, perhaps when our strength is depleted from another encounter?”

Kosk looked at each of them in turn before settling his gaze on Xeeta. “Well? You have anything to add?”

“I will defer to the will of the majority,” she said.

“Looks like we’re going looking for trouble again,” the dwarf muttered as yanked his staff from the dead mantis. They went back around to the side of the mill. The only thing they found there was Colum’s writing kit and a few loose pieces of parchment. Bredan picked one up and showed it to the others; it was a map of the area that showed the mill and stream clearly. “Looks like he was taking notes,” he said.

“Bloody idiot should have been keeping his eyes open for trouble,” Kosk said.

“It might not have helped him,” Bredan said. “Those things were fast.”

“All right, if we’re doing this, no sense standing around chattering,” Kosk said. He crossed the stream and trudged off into the tall grass on the other side at his usual brisk pace.

“Did you see anything inside?” Glori asked Quellan as they hurried after the dwarf.

“Nothing,” Quellan said. “No sign of the boy.”

“Well, at least the way it ran off was sort of the way we were going anyway,” Glori said.

Her statement proved less accurate as the day went on, as they followed the giant insect’s meandering course. At least its tracks proved relatively easy to follow. Its wedge-shaped body left a noticeable path through the tall grasses, weeds, and scattered brush that filled the landscape beyond the mill. They also found periodic bloodstains that did not bode well for the condition of their erstwhile companion, but no other signs of the mantis’s captive.

They had been walking for maybe half an hour when the trail vanished into a dense thicket. There was no mistaking where the mantis had gone, but it was also clear that it could have been anywhere in there, as there was ample growth to conceal a creature of its size—or a dozen of them.

“Think it’s in there?” Glori asked.

“I wouldn’t bet against it,” Kosk said.

“You smell that?” Bredan asked. At that prompt they all sniffed the air. There wasn’t much of a breeze, but they could all make out just a hint of something acrid that did not encourage exploration of the thicket.

“We could try and make some noise, try to lure it out,” Glori suggested.

“I have a better idea,” Xeeta said. She raised a hand, and flames erupted within her palm.

“That could end up burning the entire region,” Quellan said.

“All the better,” Kosk said.

“Could you maybe just make a display?” Glori said. “Throw a blast up over the thicket, maybe accompanied by one of Quellan’s augmented shouts.”

“That could work,” Bredan said.

“And if there are a dozen of those things in there?” Kosk asked.

“Then we take cover,” Quellan said. “Those trees over there… there’s enough of them that creatures the size of those bugs would have some difficulty getting at us.”

“That wouldn’t slow them for long,” Kosk said.

“Look, we didn’t come all this way to back off now,” Glori said. She took out her bow and fitted an arrow to the string. Bredan drew his sword and took up a ready position between her and the thicket.

“Bloody reckless,” Kosk said. But he lifted his staff and staked out a likely spot.

Xeeta remained the furthest back. She glanced over at Quellan, who raised his holy symbol and nodded.

The fire bolt arched from the sorceress’s hand and streaked over the thicket. As it reached its peak Quellan used his own magic to utter a deafening shout that launched flights of birds into the air from nearby hilltops.

The echoes of the shout were still bouncing back to them when there was a sudden burst of motion within the thicket. That was all the warning they got before the giant mantis exploded out of the growth and charged at them.