The thundering crash echoed through the cavernous room, breaking the reverie of those starving within. The creatures were weak, they knew; what power might it have gained trapped in that small corridor? And the one below--will it too gain strength enough to shake them from the walls? Gorznit lowered his head in defeat, confident the end was near, that he had lead his tribe to their doom.
The crash came again--stronger this time, with more resolve. Again and again, each might wave of sound threatened to shake the tribe from the safety of their perches and down into the clutches of that horrid creature below.
And then the light came, and Gorznit raised his head.
The beast! It's gone! he thought, for he didn't have the strength to say it aloud. None of them did. But they all saw it, the charred remains of the second one, and the strangers that had broken through the barred door.
Would they destroy the one below as well, he hoped. And that hope was quickly denied as the intruders screamed and ran like cowards... like Gorznit. But not before throwing fire on the only way out.
But Gorznit was kobold, and he knew that fire. He'd used it in many of his traps, and knew that it would burn out quickly enough. The creature below fled to the back wall, away from the fire and just underneath him. Gorznit knew what he had to do, and knew that he would die a hero this day.
He summoned the strength to speak, and put his draconic tongue to work.
"It is time," he shouted. His voice was hoarse, painful.
"Abandon your perches on my word! Run past the fire and keep running, never look back!
He took his spear and pointed it down, positioned himself over the slithering abomination. "Run! Now!" he screamed, and then he jumped.
The thing shrieked as Gorznit's spear tip impaled it clean through to the floor. Its many tentacles writhing and shifting, eyes and teeth disappearing and then reappearing, Gorznit held it there with a strength he never knew he had. The thing slapped at him again and again, but still Gorznit held strong as more than a hundred of his tribe leaped from the walls and ran from their prison.
And as the last of his kinsmen fled, Gorznit, too, ran.
#
The mage doesn't look back as he exits the Crimson Dagger, and doesn't notice those following him. He begins walking down the center of the dusty road, but screams in the distance stop him dead in his tracks. He turns in that direction. Moments later a dwarf and a wiry human emerge from a darkened corner, chased by a wolf.
"Easy enough," he says to no one in particular, and begins casting.
