Nightmares of when his beloved had joined him in admiring that beautiful young soul, and how blood flowed down a white dress in the summer of hell’s greetings.
The knight shook awake, his throat itching, and his mind thumping. His knee ached, and his back was sore. All manner of un-comforts from sleeping on the kobold’s makeshift bed. He’d slept on worse, and decided to stomach any complaining.
As he sat up, he noted that the necromancer was already awake, staring at him with those empty sockets of his.
“Good morning,” Jevrick said.
Atan grunted. The smell of sausage and smoke came down from a tunnel to the left, opposite of where they’d entered. “Don’t tell me the kobold is cooking for us.”
Jevrick shrugged. “He was quite eager.”
Something about eating meat prepped by a tunnel dwelling kobold didn’t bode well. Atan went to his pack by the foot of the bed where his armor and hammer still resided, un-looped a belt around his waist which had a knife, and began the process of sorting through his rations for something edible. Some jerky and a loaf of bread would suffice.
However, when he’d taken out the food, the kobold was now at the tunnel entrance. He wore a smock with painted flowers, and held up a wooden plate piled with braised sausage.
Heavens, it was hard to suppress the saliva that welled in Atan’s mouth at the smell of the fresh meat, though he knew better than to try it.
Kipsic’s eyes widened—more than Atan thought possible. “Hungry? Eat-eat!”
Atan brandished his jerky and bread. “I’m covered.”
Kipsic began to deflate, but then turned to Jevrick with a sudden burst of energy. “Yes-yes, very good sausage! Try? Be strong-erm-stronger!”
The necromancer chuckled. “Ah, little one. Regrettably, food no longer sustains me.”
Now the kobold fully deflated, a limp lizard with a plate of sausage.
“Ah,” Jevrick said, “well—surely our knight friend would be willing. I very much doubt that measly jerky and bread will do a man of his size any favors!”
Kipsic’s long ears perked up and he swiveled to Atan.
No, no, no. Atan cleared his throat. “Ah, no.”
“Come now, need meat!” Kipsic said, like a twice-cursed butcher.
The wizard didn’t help none either, putting up his palms like Atan was in the wrong. Jevrick then pointed to his chest and Atan knew exactly what that indicated. It was an irksome reminder of their contract. Would this mage really hold their deal against him for every slight disagreement?
“Fine,” he relented, taking up a greasy link of meat. Surely a paladin of the Knights of the Obelisk wouldn’t succumb to any foodborne illnesses. . . Unless it was poisoned.
Kipsic’s eyes quivered.
Curse it all. Atan slid the juicy cuisine into his mouth and munched. Indeed it was a smokey treat. Zyon… why is it good? He regrettably finished the sausage, though successfully refused any more offerings. He was sure he’d pay the price later that afternoon, but the prize was a beaming kobold who proceeded to inhale the rest of the meat in a minute’s time.
That cheeky wizard gave a boney thumbs up, and Atan could do nothing but grunt his displeasure. Cursed skeleton.
***
===
Jevrick’s Quest: Become Mayor of Maplebrook
Side Quest:
- Meet with the Kobold King
- Deal with the Kobolds and Bandits
Maplebrook’s Population: 998
===
Blessed paladin, I thought. Here was a man who had a heart, being so kind to the small creatures of the world, my mind jested. Humor wasn’t something I’d participated in for some time, and the levity I felt was a welcome sensation.
Well, it was time to prepare for our journey into the kobold tunnel network, but I had to first wait for Atan to finish his odd paladin ritual. The man sat on his knees and muttered a prayer.
“A blessing for your meal, good ser?” I prodded.
The paladin sighed. “No. A prayer for power.”
Hmm. Despite my familiarity with paladins as a foe, I was still unfamiliar with certain functions of their powers. Certainly I understood that their power came from an oath and what not, but I hadn’t considered their process for recouping that power. After all, I needed a few moments of rest in order to reattune myself to the aether, perhaps paladin’s did a similar thing with their deity or whatever it was this man prayed to.
Atan unslung a necklace that had been hidden underneath his under tunic. Laced to it were two objects. The first was a sort of cross with a circle and spikes at the center that made it look like a sun on a lowercase ‘t’. A familiar signet of the Lord of Light, if I wasn’t mistaken. A common oath liege of many a paladin in my experience. But that second item? Now that was peculiar. An obsidian shard of some sort, glistening with violet beneath its glassy surface. I bet that this was what the symbol on his pauldron was meant to symbolize. He held one item in each hand and muttered his prayer.
“May the dawn guide my heart, may Obelisk guide my sword.”
The objects glowed, as did his hands.
Through my true sight, his anima, which was yellow—seemed to be at war between one violet aura that emanated from the shard and an amber one from the cross. They each consumed his anima from either side until the two forces of power met him in the center—bisecting him with the two colors.
“Arg!” He screamed, doubling over.
There was a tingle in my chest, an urge to assist him. I couldn’t quite describe it. My hand reached out sheepishly despite my will, an instinct I wasn’t familiar with. . . Well. . . except it did faintly remind me how I felt when Clyde had been killed by the paladins.
During my contemplation, the paladin’s pain had ceased and he righted himself again.
His anima was mesmerizing. The two forces of power swirled around him in cascades of patterns. It was not synergistic. No, these forces were attempting to devour each other—one side of amber consuming a strain of violet, but then violet striking down at the amber again in an ever changing frontline.
“Fascinating,” I muttered.
The paladin took a deep breath, and looked at me quizzically, somewhat of offense. “I’m sure watching me in pain is quite intriguing to you. Come, we should continue.”
“Of course,” I whispered.
Before we pressed on, I hoped to confirm my prior suspicions and cast my Sense Mind spell. With a waft of my hands, the plate in my skull vibrated; this was my arcane focus. Next, a minimal portion of the flowers I’d picked yesterday spun out into the air and disintegrated into glowing blue energy, which was the aether at work; this served as the base component. Lastly, several lead bullets in my satchel rose and disintegrated; serving as the main component. With that, my mind awakened with the spell’s effect.
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The function was simple: when a creature of a certain intelligence was nearby, I could hear a humming noise from their direction. It would typically be very faint, but distinct, like wind passing over a cave mouth. I had expected in this case to hear such a noise for two people—Atan and Kipsic. But instead, I found myself assaulted by a great torrent of vibrations coming down on top of me.
“Afterlives!” I swore.
Atan swiveled back to me, hand on his dagger. “What is it?”
I searched the ceiling of this small cave. I ducked my head so as not to brush the top, but now I wondered. . . No. . . Was the ceiling shifting?
I looked to Atan, but lacked the capability to make the subtle upward motion most people with eyes could make. So, I nodded my head up like a squirrel looking for nuts in a tree.
The paladin looked up cautiously.
Kipsic wrung his hands. “Uh, we should go-go to king-king!”
I reached out at the ceiling to a place where I could have sworn it’d shifted. My hand brushed against something squishy.
Then the entire ceiling fell.
Atan grunted, Kipsic yelped, and I made some uncommonly embarrassing noise as I prepared for an eternity of living under dirt and rock.
But no, it wasn’t dirt that collapsed on me, but a dozen lizard-hound kobolds scattering in panic as I’d just broken their camouflage.
Atan unsheathed his knife and screamed.
“Wait!” I shouted, arms stretched out to stop him—a limp kobold muttering in my hands to spare his life.
Atan halted his strike, a wild look in his eyes as they darted to the dozen kobolds huddling in the corners of the room and under the makeshift furniture, then he turned to Kipsic. “What is the meaning of this?”
Kipsic held out a hand in placation. “They watch, make sure you no kill-kill me in my sleep. My flock, yes-yes?”
The other twelve kobolds all repeated, “yes-yes!” in a dozen Kispic adjacent accents.
Well, I had to hand this to my companion. He had been functionally right about Kobolds regarding their traps and their numbers. However, these small creatures hardly seemed a threat. At least, in these numbers, and certainly not to us. I wondered how a mob of them with knives descending upon a farmer might fare.
“I told you,” Atan said, “where there’s one, there are many. They might have gutted us in our sleep.”
“Well, your sleep,” I corrected. The knight did not seem to like that counter. “Besides,” I continued, “the fact stands that they did not. We may not have known they were here if I hadn’t used a spell to sense their cognitive energy.” A spell of which I dispelled.
The tiny creatures crawled out from their hiding spots and huddled behind me, including Kipsic, and whispered to each other.
Atan exhaled. “I suppose they did not try to kill us when they might have had a better opportunity. How long had they been there I wonder?”
A great question. If it had been all night, well, that would have been a mighty fine feat of its own. I had but shut my conscious for an hour or so, in which they could have snuck in, but then for them to have held that position on the ceiling nearly unmoving for a whole night? Mightily impressive endurance. Using my True Sight, I could see that they were all largely similar to Kipsic in their anima and abilities, all of the same role of scout. Fantastic little scouts they made indeed.
“What are you whispering about?” Atan asked the Kobolds.
They paid him no mind, chattering away in their hushed language..
“Hey!” Atan demanded, “what is going on?”
They still did not respond beyond a few scowls.
“You—”
I sought to settle my companion by stepping in front of him. “So impatient, fair knight. I imagine we shan't wait long to hear their thoughts.”
He looked past me. “You’re going to get us killed.”
“Still afraid of death at this point?” I said.
He sighed, and finally settled his knife back into its scabbard and waited patiently with me for the kobolds to finish their discussion.
When they were finally done, they said in unison, “yes-yes!” and then turned back to us with Kipsic at the front.
“Ok! We will take you to the Kobold King,” he said.
I turned to Atan who shook his head in disbelief. I turned back to Kipsic and said, “very well! Let us keep moving then. I am eager to meet him.”
Kipsic turned and hopped up and down with the group of big eyed, long eared, straight snouted, and curled tailed creatures. Then they all scampered down the tunnel, beckoning us to follow—which we did, crawling along the tunnel floors. This was shaping up to be a most whimsical adventure.
Atan grabbed the rope around his armor and supplies, but a cluster of kobolds turned back and attempted to grab the items.
“Remove your tiny hands, creatures,” Atan threatened.
They persisted despite him.
“We help!” one said.
“Yes-yes, we tug, you crawl!” said another.
“Warrior too big, we help-help!” said a third.
The paladin swatted at them.
I chuckled. “Come now, ser. They would not dare to steal from you or me, let them help! Crawling is difficult enough.”
He shook his head, but said, “Fine.”
“Yes-yes!” The squad of little helpers cheered as they worked together to tug and roll the mound of bound armor and pack of supplies through to the mouth of the cave, pausing to let us go first.
If I could have given Atan a teasing wink, I would have. I did, however, venture through the tunnel first. Atan grunted disapprovingly as he came after, followed by that team of kobold assistants.
The tunnel was pitch dark, but with the sacrifice of vials of blood and cat eyes, my Darksight spell made the issue trivial. The tunnel and kobolds become highlighted to me in a greyish-green tint. Behind me, the paladin held out the cross pendant, which glowed faintly enough that it illuminated my feet—which the paladin stared at as we crawled on.
After some time, the tunnel widened as other smaller branches of tunnels joined together to form a decently large network that we needn’t crawl in any longer. Now standing, hunched over, we progressed forward up a rising incline. I became excited that we might see more kobolds soon, assuming all or many more of them could camouflage in Kispic’s manner. But I resisted the urge to frivolously burn through my components for the Sense Mind spell. I would certainly need to purchase more materials when possible, as well as coin to afford them, for that matter.
A low drumming echoed from further ahead. After another few moments, there was some sort of high whooshing noise, and a few more moments after that there was a warm brown light at the edge of the cave's mouth. At that point, we were again crawling, or more so climbing up a rather steep incline.
Atan now held on to the rope of his belongings while five kobolds lugged the sides of it up and two more steadied his gear on their shoulders.
We finally summited by the time my Darkvision finally faded, and before me was a hidden splendor I’d seldom could imagine.
Kobolds, thousands upon thousands, swarmed upon plateaus and stalagmites and wooden platforms. So many different shapes and subspecies. Yes, some were the same chameleon type as our escort, yet others were big brutes with short snouts, ears, and tails—but with thick framed muscles. Other flat-faced types glided through the air upon bat wings, and there were some even smaller than the ones in front of us—the size of a fist—though I couldn’t tell if they were a subspecies or infants. There were green, red, blue, silver, and some of a rainbow flourish of colors. They all danced and ran and laughed and ate throughout their great underground lair. There was a scent of sulfur, but also of brazing meat and misting water. Orange light came from great stone braziers scattered throughout, which were shaped like ancient spirits or some sort, with elements carved into their design: flames, plants, water, rock, and storms. I understood very little of the primordial powers of the world, but their ancient powers were beloved by many tribalistic cultures and studied by wizards of pretentious refinement.
I then realized what the drumming and whooshing noises were: a band! There was a cluster of kobolds upon a platform in the center of this terraced lair, with animal skin drums, stationary wood pipes, and metal pots filling the air with their rowdy music. It was so upbeat that I nearly missed the roaring of a stream then ran between it all from end to end of the cave.
Do not mistake that these folk were only subjected to primitive tools and trinkets, they indeed had quite a lot of stuff. Atan had not been mistaken when he’d spoken of their knack for thievery. Paintings, farming equipment, crates with royal stamps, barrels of wine, bed sheets, and piles of clothes—all sorts of things were scattered throughout.
There was also a wooden pen near the base of the terraces where cows, pigs, chickens, and a few horses were kept and tended to by some kobolds with sacks of feed and buckets of slop.
At the center of it all, near the very top of the incline, shining in gold and silver splendor—was a mountain of coins and jewels that spilled from top to bottom, like a dirt mound dug up in a terraforming project. And at the top of that: A throne chair of fine inlays and etchings—perhaps also stolen—with a very, very, fat kobold slouched over in it, his stubby head weighed down by a gilded crown. Nak-Kan, I presumed.
As I ogled at the sight, Atan started to don his armor again.
“You know we’ll have to descend the way we came, right?” I said.
He grunted. “We’ll have to survive a horde of kobolds before we even attempt.”
“You still expect a fight?”
He held my gaze. “I always expect a fight.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
Kipsic hobbled over to us. “See-see? The great city! Pretty, yes?”
I smiled. “Quite spectacular.”
That caused Kipsic to beam again with his wide circular eyes. “Good-good. Come, we speak to king. He listen, he like you.”
I noted that Atan was only partially dressed. Oh, and here came his hammer lugged by another four kobolds. He directed them to set it down next to him as he fiddled with the straps of his greaves.
“We may need a moment, little Kispic,” I admitted.
He nodded. “I go tell Nak-Kan and other kobolds you here-here so they don’t try to kill-kill you.”
“Sounds swell,” I replied.
The kobold ran away on all fours, up a ramp that led to the plateaus.
I again turned to the knight, who was now undoing the laces on his shinguard to redo them. No rush, I told myself, certainly the town would be well for a few moments longer.
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