Chapter 6 - To the Victors Go the Spoils

            After the battle, looking over the wounded party, Nominis once again repeats his previous objections to party tactics. "Once again you rush blindly and separately into the unknown. We were drawn here and it was a well-executed maneuver. But we knew they are ready for us. Going with more care might see us in less dangerous situations with combats we control, not react to. The best hunter chooses his hunting grounds. We cannot continue like this. Especially with our only healer without spells and slow. Could you all please, please, keep your battle lust under control at least enough not to hare off to the first goblin you see! We will kill them all, but as a group, not as individuals who just happen to search for the same things.
            Orklar, you need to rest and recover your spells. And once again, we leave goblins the initiative and give them time to prepare just because we were stupid enough to get surrounded and outsmarted. By goblins. Great!" He huffs and retreats into the shadows, outside of the party light. "Lets agree if we're camping here, watching over the hole or we pull back and hope we don't have to fight for this space again."
            Orklar grunted and slung his mace and shield. He picked up Grenl by the manacles and carried her unceremoniously hanging face down. The wrenching of her arms sounded as painful as it looked as he lumbered over to Erky, the witch’s feet scrabbling alongside him all the while. The old goblin yelped and yowled, kicking up a fuss as Orklar dragged her along.
            He then gently scooped up Erky with his other arm and carried them both toward where the majority of the group was reconvening, just in time to catch Nominis’ tongue lashing.
            Orklar grunted again and said, “Your tactics are not their tactics, my shadowy comrade.” He surveyed that everyone was still among the living and shrugged at Nominis. “They do not expect you to fight their way. Why do you expect them to fight yours?”
            The one-eyed lumberhulk glanced around as if not expecting Nominis to answer. He then nodded to himself slowly.
            “As much as I would like to return to the surface,” he licked his lips at the thought of the ale keg still there. “My bones say we should stay. If we leave this place, our ‘allies’ may entrench and cause further difficulties.”
            Satisfied all of the goblins were finished off, Brick began a systematic search of the area. "Gotta git our eyes onna sitcheration, aye," he said, "Lets look and see wot we sees."
            Draugrim Wildmane-Hucrele let the chatter around him flow, focusing instead on dropping his borrowed, blood-slick blade and taking up the elegantly crafted glaive that the Warchief had dumped with so little ceremony. The polearm fit perfectly in his hands, the crescent-moon blade having all the weight and flow he remembered so well. He gave it a few, quick swings, once more becoming accustomed to the powerful, deadly arcs she could cleave.
            Satisfied, he turned it towards Grenl, carefully lowering its sharpened blade towards the miserable creature. She had tortured him. Tortured Erky. Probably had tortured his cousins. His cousins whom now Draugrim feared were gone, killed by these awful creatures.
            " Why is she still alive," he bitterly demanded, " Unless you spared her so I could be the one to lop her head off?"
            He spit upon her face, barking out a single, triumphant laugh.
            " How now, Witch! Now without your magic and chief to cower behind. I told you I would be free, and I promised you what fate you'd meet when I was, didn't I?"
            "I curse you!" Grenl screamed in broken Shaartan, seeming somehow much smaller, less there, and less intimidating than he remembered. Her terrifying presence in his memory simply... wasn't there. It was one thing for memory and circumstance to alter perception, and another for the terror he had felt to simply be nonexistant.
            "I curse you, Maglubiyet curse you! You curse!" she continued to shriek.
            Draugrim took a swift, aggressive cut over the hag's head, just barely passing over her crown before he leveled the steel against her neck.
            " Didn't I!? You'll pay for all the blood you spilled, and even then it won't be enough. The Hells are too good for you, and so help me if Durnn was truthful about what you did to my family, I'll drag your soul back myself just to send you again."
            Knuckles white, face flushed, it took everything the Half-Elf had to look away towards the others. His hands shook. " It is only out of appreciation for freeing me that I stay my hand - Unless you need her, she is mine to end. Breath is too good for this torturer."
            "You kill, never see what happen family," Grenl sneered, the expression exacerbated by her drooping face. For a goblin, she certainly had chutzpah. "Family gone, dead, go away? You no see!"
            Dalian turned from the scene at Meepak's tug at his robes. The blue-scaled kobold yipped something at him, pointing to each of them, then making a sign.
            Dal sighed. "He says we should keep looking for their dragon," he said with annoyance.
            Meepak stared at them with unblinking reptilian eyes until he was sure Dalian was finished. Then, he joined Nala in making sure the rest of the goblins were dead. Kobold chirps and yips sounded from the outpost they had established; it seemed they were excited by what the kobold Meepak had healed had to say. Soon enough, they would come in to loot the dead.
            The archer looked curiously at the witch as he walked over to the hobgoblins and their bows. "Well, for one thing, your death could be quick or it could be slow. You may think there's only dying and not dying, but there are gradations. I think you may want to seek some goodwill, in your position." The tall elf was matter of fact, but it didn't sound like he would hesitate to torture the old goblin woman if it came to it.
            "You kill, you hurt, I no talk," Grenl insisted, droop-scowling at the elf. It was hard for her to look intimidating hanging from Orklar's fist, but she was surely trying.
            The lanky elf cocked his head curiously at Grenl. It was the way a bird might look curiously at a worm. "Interesting." He didn't say anything else before turning away to go search the bodies.
            Orklar swayed and yawed as Draugrim raged, doing his best to keep his bulk between the glaive wielding wildling and his captive. Only to have Vol come at them from another direction, and so he spun further to try and mitigate emotions, his own ire rising.
            “You!” he barked at Draugrim. “Settle the hells down. We need information , and she’s the one like’st to have it as not.” Then he wheeled on Vol.
            “You’re not helping either,” he growled. “Go help scour the fallen before the lizards snatch up everything of value. My hands are a little full.” He raised a body in each arm in emphasis. Then he hefted Grenl further up toward his face.
            “And you , shut it if you want to live,” he snarled. “Or I’ll pluck out your eyeball to fill this empty socket of mine!”
            As soon as the notion of Grenl surviving crested the air, Orklar could feel Draugrim rising to it with bloodstained hatred. The big half-orc turned to intercept the dangerous Skald. “I need her alive ,” he said through clenched teeth, face to face with the wild man. “For now,” he finished more quietly.
            " And I need my family back," Draugrim spat on the ground, incensed at being denied the vengeance he so craved.
            The crimes of the witch were many, but as she dangled in hold of Orklar, feeble and useless, the Half-Elf slowly felt his blood begin to cool. No matter what else, she had been humiliated and made helpless: a fitting punishment. For the moment.
            " But that is mine," the Tiri Kitor growled, pointing at the oversized coat that Grenl wore sagging around her small frame, " My armor. Taken from me like everything else these foul creatures got their claws on."
            Taken like his cousins.
            In a final outburst, Draugrim rammed the blunt end of his glaive into a nearby wall, letting out a yawp of indignation and fury before his entire body seemed to slump all at once.
            " Tal ... Shar ..."
            He collapsed inwards, riddled with thoughts of failure, of what he could possibly say to Kerowyn if the dead warchief had spoke true. The only thing keeping him going was the hope that it was a lie, a lie meant to shake his resolve and leave him morose instead of murderous.
            " She lives," Draugrim finally grumbled, rising to his feet and giving the other half-blood a slight nod.
            " A life saved for a life spared. This is agreeable."
            For now.
            " These creatures must have placed the rest of my equipment close by," he reasoned in a more rational tone, trying to set his mind to solving the problem at hand, " But first, any who are blooded, I can mend with a touch. Step forwards and receive nature's balm, though speak up quickly: my mother's magic does not flow through me as often it does her."
            The half-elf jutted his chin towards Grenl, beginning to undo the straps and ties that held his brigandine on. " And take that coat off of her."
            Nala dragged herself around the room to kill the fallen goblins. Too tired to lift her axe, she pulled out her dagger for the dirty work. She paid little attention to the argument over what to do with the witch. In the end, the beastie would be dead. As she went about the grisly work, Nala searched through the bodies she killed, as well.
            Nominis definitely appreciates the heals offered. Enough so that he leaves his self-imposed exile and rejoins the group. He looks over the piles of stuff and helps sifting through them, but doesn't kill anyone not attacking him.

            The party set about looting the fallen, taking their gains to the Durbuluk Chief's chamber. In that eerie purple light, they sorted through what they had found as the first kobolds ventured carefully into the smoke-hazed hall. Meepak kept yapping at Dalian, but the mage waved him off.
            Vol took some arrows but not much else, though he did stop to appreciate the craftsmanship of the shortbow. He held up Durnn's key and gestured at the iron chest. "Let's see if this fits there."
            Having searched through the hoard that the goblinoids had collected, Draugrim Hucrele was more than pleased to see that the majority of his equipment was still intact. He had half a mind to take his fearsome morningstar, hanging upon the wall, and use it to go cave Durnn's skull in again. The idea brought a smirk to his face as he ignored the jewels and treasure before him and instead focused on getting equipped.
            First came his component pouch - the means with which for him to work the rest of his magic. The half-elf sighed in relief, having initially assumed the items would have been completely ransacked or discarded. A quick search through revealed the materials within were still secure, tucked into vials, small cloth bags, and leather pockets. He slipped it around his waist and fastened it securely: he would not be separated from it again.
            Next came out a bandoleer, still cradling a flask of fire and a flask of acid: tools he had been prepared to use and had never gotten the chance. Draugrim assumed that before the journey was done, both bottles would be expended: the Citadel had proven far more dangerous than he had been prepared for. The sash was slipped around his shoulders as he kept searching.
            He was pleased to find that his pack had been mostly undisturbed. With apprehension, he tore past the food inside to pull out a leatherbound, long-worn book, its pages faded and dogeared but otherwise in immaculate condition. Draugrim cradled the small journal to his chest, glad to see it had not been made into goblin kindling or worse. The faded symbol of Requiem Aestas was still stamped upon its cover: his mother's recollections and insights during her days of adventuring. A useful tome, one that had helped him avoid several of the traps he had encountered during his initial descent.
            The rest of his gear was uneventful: the pack contained a sturdy bedroll and blanket, a flask with water still within it and a crowbar for breaking through tricky locks. A gift from his father hung from its side: a coil of rope made from the finest silk, strong and everlasting like the Tribe.
            Collecting all of these things, Draugrim made his way back to the rest of the group. Spying one of the larger bows that the Hobgoblins were using, he briefly considered his own, smaller hunting bow. The item was not sentimental, merely a tool, and so he cast it aside to snatch up one of the more powerful weapons. He tested the draw weight quickly, found it suitable, and so slung it over his shoulder, the wood bouncing lightly against his hip quiver.
            " Found a sack of gold," he informed the others as he entered the main chamber, tossing the bag to the ground in the center of them all, " Pair of gems too, shiny and dark. Three strange vials - I assume two are venomous in nature as they bear a snake. And a scroll, but I've little mind for deciphering the arcane - if someone else could?"
            When his eyes settled on the sight of Durnn's end, Draugrim took a moment more to look over the hobgoblin's armor. His green eyes closed tightly when he fully accepted that the glittering scales were the same he had seen Talgen leave with. But, the creatures had taken the half-elf's equipment too: perhaps Talgen and Sharwyn yet lived and were merely lost somewhere else in the dungeon? But, if they had not been chained where he had been, then where?
            With little regard for the dead corpse, Draugrim began to slip the mail off of Durnn, looking to the others as he did. " This was Talgen's," he explained, " My cousin. Bought it right before coming here. You can still see its shine. Heh. Barely ... barely used."
            He stared at the mail once it was free of the goblin, shaking his head slowly.
            " He has to be alive," Draugrim reasoned, convinced himself, " They left me alive. Talgen must live. Sharwyn too. They have to be somewhere else in this horrid place."
            The Half-Elf looked to the others around him, his arms cradling the scales as if they were his kin. His voice wavered, no longer filled with rage but instead a deep melancholy. " I shouldn't have let them go without me. I knew better. I had always protected them, always looked out for them, and now ... Woe. Woe and Justice to me, if the gods deem that fair."
            Orklar left the group to pick over the remains of the fallen as he shuffled into the glowing throne chamber. He paused and eyed the oddity of it for a few moments before shifting off to the southwestern arc of the circular chamber. There he set Erky down carefully and made sure he was still stable.
            Begging Dalian’s assistance, he held a dagger to the witch’s throat as the wizard unlocked her manacles and removed the coat requested by Draugrim. Once the armored coat was off, the manacles were reapplied to Grenl’s wrists behind her back.
            “Answer three questions to my satisfaction,” Orklar said, drawing close to her face and holding up three meaty fingers. “And you will live. Do otherwise…and I imagine your end will come much, much sooner.”
            "I talk. You no kill," Grenl cackled. She quieted after Orklar tugged at her manacles again, but she still seemed less frightened than inconvenienced. Draugrim, however, could see through the facade she threw up. The goblin was wary, as she was right to be. Meepak hissed at her, but he did it from behind Dal's legs, so it wasn't as threatening as it might have been.
            Now that the looting was coming to a close, Brick had returned to the Chief's hall and set himself up a small camp at the southern end. He had a small fire burning of what detritus he could collect. Idly, he wished he had something other than stale rations and water to consume.
            The dwarf grunted in a sort of response to Orklar's interrogation of Grenl. "She ain't gonna tell you nuttin, lad. Jus stick 'er inna brain pan an be done wit it."             “Mmm,” Orklar grumbled in response. “The dead gods have soldiers enough. I’d rather not put this one in their ranks if possible.”
            The big half-orc pulled the flask from his hip and swallowed a mouthful with a creased grin. He glanced sidelong at Brick, and then with a wry smirk offered the flask of Dragon Punch Whiskey to the dwarf. After reclaiming the flask, he worked his way over to Dalian, hauling the goblin witch after him.
            Brick accepted the flask with a nod of thanks. He then took a healthy swig and returned it to Orklar. "Hah, dst dere's gotta punch," he said with a wide grin.
            “Make it known to the lizards,” he said. “That the search for their dragon will resume after we rest, and that they’re not welcome in the throne chamber for now.”
            Orklar then walked around and surveyed the establishment of camp, making sure to round up the coins and unholy symbol from the witch and the key that had recently been tried on the iron chest.
            Still badly wounded after Draugrim's healing, Erky nevertheless managed to swim back to consciousness. He grasped the half-elf's arm weakly, looking up into his face with such gratitude that it was almost embarrasing.
            "You've done much for me, friend," he wheezed, then turned his head so he could see the others. "All of you. I thought I was done for, and at the hands of dirty goblins. Come closer, all of you who are wounded, and I'll pray to Gaerdal Ironhand to bless you for what you've done for His servant. The Shield of the Golden Hills ease your pain for your service." Clasping the iron band that ringed his arm, he closed his eyes, his faith needing no other sight than that of his inner eye.
            As he prayed, their wounds mended; color came back into Erky's face, and when he finished his quiet plea to a higher power, he was able to stand on his own, the near-fatal wound the hobgoblin had dealt him now nothing more than a shallow gouge.
            Then he spotted Grenl, and a look of sheer hatred turned his face into a mask of death. "What is that scum doing here?" he asked through clenched teeth. Grenl smiled to herself at his reaction, which all but made steam come out of the gnome's ears.
            " I share your sentiments, friend," Draugrim admitted, sharing in the glare the gnome had given Grenl. " But she has her uses. For now."
            He gave a nod of solidarity towards Orklar, whose wishes he would respect when it came to the fate of the witch.
            " Not so cunning or cruel without her hexes though," he half-elf barked a short, triumphant laugh, " Not so imposing now that she cannot get in our heads." The Tiri Kitor smiled wickedly at Grenl, glad to see her in such a sorry state. " Just a charlatan with cheap cantrips and bad teeth."
            Draugrim placed a soft, reassuring hand upon Erky, showing a gentleness that was slightly out of character for the raging warrior he had been. Now, now that his tormentors were disposed of, the Hucrele was feeling slightly more hopeful about finding his cousins and escaping the nightmare. One day it would be a shared story around the hearth, a laughing recounting of their own adventures.
            " She will not harm us anymore," he told the gnome, " And we shall undo the wickedness her kind have perpetrated, mark my words."
            He cast his eyes at the rest of the party - an odd assortment of folk, to be sure. " I know we had little time prior to all of this mayhem, but how came you all to this bleak place? I know my ... My aunt hired you all." There was some resentment in addressing his mother's sister.
            " But surely a stranger group in the Realms, well, I'd only heard of in the tales of my mother and father. Is that how you heard of predicament of the Hucreles? Are some of you companions of Requiem Aestas?" he asked, suddenly perking up at the idea that his new comrades-in-arms may have heard stories of his parents' adventuring party that he himself was not privy to.
            "I'ma jus lookin fer me ale," Brick commented. He shook his head and elaborated a bit. "On tha road, me cask o' ale be stole by ruttin' gobby thieves. Tracked 'em 'ere. Ran inta dese 'ere folk an now I be helpin dem. Ain't hired by nobody, but happy ta stick me axes innae gobby heads." He grinned widely and shrugged with one shoulder.
            Draugrim gave Brick a hearty smile, mussing a hand through his own auburn hair: the sweat of prior exertion was starting to make him feel a slight chill. " All this way for a drink? That is impressive, Master Dwarf," the half-elf admitted, " Hopefully we quench your thirst before long."
            Nala grunted as she was healed. “Thanks,” she said, juggling a bunch of javelins taken from the goblins, as well as the other lute, as she dragged it into the throne room. “Someone going to try that chest?” she asked. She was feeling better now, having been healed and catching her breath after the fight.
            Once they had gathered in the throne room, Nala flopped down and drank eagerly from her waterskin. She eyed the piles of loot. She didn’t really need any of the weapons and couldn’t do magic.
            " Already tossed through the trunk," Draugrim informed the small, fearsome woman, " Was mostly my stolen possessions, though a few choice bits of treasure."
            He glanced towards the pouch of gold he had procured, set next to the glittering gems that had been found with them. " Seems they had found themselves a heft little hoard. Too bad they did not have your cask," he jutted his chin towards Brick.
            Draugrim set to carefully folding up the scale shirt so that he could tuck it into his recovered pack, whispering soft affections in the tongue of the wild elves as he did so. He gave his pointed ears to Nala as she explained, nodding along.
            “I was on my way to visit my uncle,” Nala answered Draugrim as she cleaned her armor and weapons from goblin blood. “Met these folk on the road. When we got to Drellin’s Ferry we thought we would help out and make some coin when your aunt was hiring.” She started to pull out her braid and run a brush through her long red hair.
            The tall, lanky elf smiled at Nala and nodded. "We all just happened to be going the same direction." He shrugged. "Life happens that way, sometimes. It's turned out well, so far." He looked back at Draugrim, curiosity clear on his face. "Who is Requiem Aestas?"
            " Kerowyn would certainly pay anything to have her children back, that's for sure," he noted, softly chewing on his lower lip, " I shouldn't be surprised she didn't mention me in the slightest, though."
            He looked up to Nala first, then the rest of the assembled with a genuine, small smile. " I'm glad you all came along. Poor Erky and I were thinking we'd have to formulate our heroics all alone, isn't that right my friend?" he asked of the gnome with a small chuckle.
            To Vol's question, Draugrim's mossy eyes suddenly gleamed, showing off flakes of emerald in them as he became noticeably excited.
            " Requiem Aestas! They're the best, my parent's adventuring party! They've journeyed all over the Vale and beyond, battling the monsters and horrors that stalk our forests, fighting ancient evils and spreading stories bold. Gathered members from all across the Realms: Denetar, the Harper's Blade of Neverwinter and mastermind behind outwitting The Goblin Horde of Cormyr! Kaniel of far off Qudra, the Desert's Falcon and wielder of The Singing Scimitar! Ohnka of Icewind, The Orcish Hammer, the Unbreakable Bridge of Bryn Shander! Chakra Thunderheart, Tiefling Princess in Exile and master of The Mind! Mighty Tethadriel, Slayer of A Thousand Gnolls, Crosser of A Thousand Rivers, Breaker of A Thousand Hearts, and Hakon that traveled with her, Sword Singer, The Hoar Keeper, The Man of Two Souls!"
            He rattled off the names with the glee of someone recounting their favorite story, clearly charmed and eager to share a one thousand and one tales of heroism, danger, tragedy, comedy, romance, and victory. Draugrim had to take a breath to steady himself, the very notion of speaking of them sending him into high spirits.
            " Many flitted through their numbers throughout the years, but my mother and father were with them since the founding. I had thought that perhaps they were the ones who noticed I was missing at first, but ..."
            His good mood deflated quickly, Draugrim's shoulders sinking in a huff. " My parents left swiftly nigh two years ago. Said they needed to gather the Requiem together again. They never told me what for. They've been gone ever since."
            Orklar listened as he unfettered himself from some of the burden he had acquired, steel shield, longsword, longbow, all dropped in a pile with the rest of the spoils for now. He unraveled a length of the rope he wore bandoliered around his chest and fastened the manacles to the free end.
            More able to move around now, he began limping about and looking to prepare a meal for the evening. The witch trailed behind him by the six foot length of rope he had unfurled, but the bitch of it was, by how she was tied, she had to walk backwards to follow along. If she fell, Orklar gave no indication that he wouldn’t just drag her around by her bound arms as he lumbered about her business.
            Once dinner was under way, he settled for a time and studied the parchment they had uncovered. A some muttered prayers and a bit of inspection, he rolled the scroll back up and handed it to Dalian, explaining what he thought it was.
            Erky continued to glare at the goblin prisoner through Draugrim's tale - until Orklar began to drag her about backwards. He had a chuckle to spare for the awkwardly hopping goblin then. Meepak joined him with reptilian hissing amusement, which gave him pause; he turned to stare at the kobold, uncomfortable.
            Meepak continued to yip at Dalian, who had slumped against the wall, doing his best to ignore the insistent kobold. He did look up with interest at Orklar's offering, accepting the scroll.
            "I could learn from this, if we have the time for me to do a bit of scribing," the mage said, a bit of enthusiasm returning to his voice as he examined the roll of parchment, ignoring Meepak's disapproving huffing.
            Nala listened to Draugrim regale with the great persons of his parents’ adventuring company. “Never heard of ‘em,” Nala said with a shrug, and went back to looting and scrounging.
            She offered up one of her goblin rations for the meal, as well. It was fairly nasty, but edible. “We should check that door we had to leave behind, since we have a key now,” Nala said when discussions continued. “And we probably shouldn’t leave this level until we’ve made it safe. And maybe the dragon is on this level, if we’re lucky.”
            Orklar worked his mundane magic on the goblin food stuffs and signaled when the pungent stew was ready. As folks began to eat and settle in, he turned his attentions to Grenl.
            First he settled his bulk on the ground uneasily and fished a pouch from his belongings. Emptying the contents into one hand, he rattled the objects and cast them onto the ground before him. A variety of roughly carved pieces clattered lightly and came to rest. Studying their array, he grunted in assessment. Then he scooped up the pieces again and cast them again, studying how they arranged themselves.
            As the witch moved closer to see what the half-orc was about, she could see the objects for what they were. Bones.
            A third time the bones were cast, and this casting brought forth laughter from the one-eyed hulk. He left the bones where they lay and eyed Grenl.
            “My bones don’t lie,” he said to her. “And they can tell when you do. So choose your words carefully, witch. First question. Where’s the dragon?”
            Grenl smirked, or maybe it was a sneer - it was hard to tell, with half her face drooping. "You make talk promise now. Promise no hurt me. Then I talk all. You bones talk you I true." Her dead eye rolled to meet Orklar's steady gaze along with her yellow eye. She seemed stubborn enough to mean what she said, despite the warning she'd received from Vol; she was seemingly expecting to have to suffer, as goblins would make someone suffer, but determined to stick to her demand. A tough old bird, for certain - and a sly one. It seemed it was no accident that she'd risen to her position in the Durbuluk tribe despite her injuries.
            "What you lose? One old goblin? You get talk, make easy, I go." A gap-toothed smile crawled over her spotted greenish lips, her good eye swiveling to Draugrim and Erky. "No curse on sweet Draugrim and salt Erky. Sweet fear stay here."
            Erky fumed, his hang gripping the iron band of his god tightly. Old bite-marks lined his arm. "You can't trust a goblin," he spat. "That old terror should die for what she's done." He put a hand on Draugrim's hip, high as he could reach, and gave the half-elf a sympathetic glance. "What they've all done. You may make a deal with kobolds, but never with goblins."
            Brick grunted and hiked a thumb at Erky. "I'm wit da gnome. Kill tha beastie an' git goin. She ain't gonna git you nuthin, and all it be doin is lettin' her git us later." He shook his head and stared in the general direction of the surface. "If'n we be checkin them locked doors, ain't no reason someone cannae go try dat key whilst we rest a bit. Ain't in no rush, aye? If'n deres trouble, jus' come a'runnin'." A wide grin crossed his face.
            "I'll do it," the newcomer half-elf leaped to the task, eager to have any excuse to be away from the witch and her miseries.
            He laid a bare hand upon Erky's crown, showing solidarity in the face of their torturer. Let the others have their little interrogation, Draugrim decided: he didn't trust a word that spilled out of the goblin's mouth. He would find his cousins without her duplicitous help.
            With that in mind, Draugrim hefted his glaive over his shoulder and made to procure the key and investigate the door.
            The Shadow creature shakes its head. "It is not a good idea to go alone in the unknown. If you are set to go, I'll come with you, Blood-caller. But know that we had several fights since we came here and all were as we explored the unknown. And one door we passed by has observable keylock at all. Do you still want to go? And please tell me we go dark and silent."
            The tall elf nods in Nominis's direction as he remains seated on the floor. "We're hurt and tired. The door will still be there in an hour, take a break and wait." Of course, Vol had shown a very long term view of the concept of time before. To him, a few hours was nothing.
            Draugrim grinned at both men, lightly adjusting the weight of his glaive upon his shoulder. " Come now, where's your sense of adventure? After putting down those Gobs, I feel like I could take on a Dragon all myself."
            Indeed, with his freedom intact and with the agency to finally go look for his cousins, the half-elf was feeling particularly invincible. Maybe it was a side effect of no longer being subjected to Grenl's spells and tortures, but an eager mania had washed over him at the prospect of dungeon-delving like a true explorer. Like his parents had.
            " It's practically around the corner, besides - just a quick trip to see if the key fits, we poke our heads in quiet-like, and then we pop back and tell the others what we saw." He gave Nominis a friendly pat on the shoulder, feeling more energized than he had in ... he couldn't quite remember.
            " Dark and silent indeed, as you say. I don't mean to tarry away from the party, merely get a better feel of where we're headed next." Draugrim shrugged. " Poor Erky and I have been bound and chained for moons on end, forgive a man for feeling a bit restless, aye? We go and check the door, together," Draugrim nodded at Nominis, welcoming the company, " And then we come right back, nias?"
            Nala at her bit as the others talked. When she was done, she fell backward and sprawled out on the stone floor. Soon she was snoring. It had been a tough day. She barely twitched when Erky grabbed a torch from her pack.

            In the end, Draugrim went, accompanied by Nominis, Erky, and Meepak. Kobolds were running back and forth through the hazy hall and goblin town, looting the warriors and putting the remaining goblins to the sword. They also carried out the wounded kobolds, treating them with care.
            In the chaos, Draugrim examined the locked door in the hall by the light of the torch Erky borrowed from Nala. Finding no traps, he inserted the key, which fit perfectly, and opened the door.
            Sloppily mounted and stuffed animal heads adorned the walls - cattle, giant rats, horses, dogs, and other not so impressive specimens... and a few grisly trophies. What looked like human or elven hands, wrinkled and dried; a few pointed ears on a string; what looked like a shrunken head with a full beard in oily braids; a couple of kobold heads that Meepak hissed at when he saw them. Smashed and broken cabinets, small tables, arrow- and spearheads, piecemeal bits of armor, and semi-unidentifiable art objects that appeared to be made out of dried fungus littered the periphery of the room, mute victims of some sort of rampage. A rusted iron spike stood askew in the center of the room, trailing a broken chain. Everything was coated with ash, mostly in a dust-thin layer, but in deeper, seething patches here and there on the walls, floor, and debris.
            Meepak chirped at Draugrim, gesturing towards the chamber.
            Erky, peering in past Draugrim's legs, huffed and lowered his sword. "Gaerdal knows that's not what I was expecting."
            " I don't think any of us were," Draugrim admitted slowly, shivering involuntarily.
            How many had these goblins killed? How many had fallen prey to their wicked viciousness? And still the burning question remained - had his cousins suffered a similar fate?
            " Life is too precious to be spent on Grenl and her ilk," the half-elf chewed on his inner cheek, frowning gravely, " She is lucky we did not escape on our own, Erky my Friend."
            Draugrim looked down at Meepak, trying to interpret the kobold's pantomime. Shame it was that he did not speak the Dragon's Tongue - his mother had tried to teach him but he simply did not have the scales for it.
            " What is it, little dragon?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.
            " Can you understand him?" Draugrim threw a look over to Nominis, " Or is Dailian the only one of our kind he can talk to?"
            Nominis shrugs. "As long as it speaks only draconic, but maybe it knows some of the enemies language?"
            Looking at little dragon handler, Nominis asks it in goblin "What is it? Did you see anyone you know on the wall?" And then paying attention to the details in the room back in common
            "I don't like the broken chain in the beast room. Close it and let's get back to others. We can check this in more detail later. The mystery of the key is solved. We agreed to only check it and be cautious about it." He steps away, still holding the whip and the net at the ready. But he doesn't seem like he really expects anything from the dead things, more like a reflex - being cautious to the point of paranioa saved his hide more than once, but in this soft world...even in the dungeon, most things are just normal animals and humanoids.
            Stopping himself before heading in further, Draugrim mulled Nominis's words over.
            On the one hand, he was dangerously curious about what lay within the gruesome room: trophies usually meant more than just stuffed heads, after all.
            On the other, he had promised Nominis that he was not about to go charging into danger. Nodding slowly, Draugrim pulled back and gently closed the door, locking it with the key afterwards.
            " Very well," Draugrim agreed, " Back to the others to tell them what we've found." He grinned at the shadowy man. " Thanks for coming along. See? Not so bad."
            He gave a small nudge to Erky. " We've certainly seen worse down here, that's for damn sure."
            Hefting his glaive, Draugrim clicked his tongue and Meepak and led the small troupe back in the direction of the party's makeshift camp.
            Meepak, who had been right behind Draugrim and about to enter the room, knocked into the half-elf's legs and opened his jaws in surprise. He trilled a protest as Draugrim closed and locked the door again, hopping up and down in his dismay. Seeing that it didn't move Erky, Nominis or Draugrim, he sighed gustily and stomped after them, tail swishing.

            Orklar turned his baleful eye on Grenl and said nothing. He simply watched her, silently. He collected his bones with methodical purpose, dropping them into his pouch and letting the witch sweat. The quiet stretched out between them. He said nothing as the others riled up their oats and set out to test some locks. Fishing out his long dagger, he began sharpening its edge, watching the others leave. Once they were gone, he turned his scarred countenance back toward Grenl.
            “You have until they return to answer my question,” he said, as if she had not even spoken. “Or I throw you in the pit.” His tone was impassive, implacable , as he gestured toward the hole.
            Brick shuffled to the edge of the pit and gazed within. "Ain't dat be tha way down, lad?" he said, pointing into it. "Dunnae tink nobody looked down dere yet. Mebee tossin 'er in be lettin 'er go." He shrugged, "Jus stick 'er inna brain pan."
            The lanky archer gave a small nod. "We were going to climb down there ourselves. If you want her dead, Orklar, just let Draugrim do it. He's certainly angry enough to want to." Vol shrugged. "Or I could, or Nominis or Brick. In fact, I think you were the only one arguing to keep her alive in the first place."
            He looked at Grenl. "I wouldn't want to disappoint your only ally here, witch."
            Orklar chuckled at the banter around Grenl. He didn’t look away from her though, his one eye boring into her rancid face.
            “Oh, she won’t get away if she goes into the pit,” he said to her. “Will you? It’s a looong way down from what I saw.” His chuckle broke forth again in a low rumble.
            By this time, Orklar's patient intimidation had begun to make inroads in Grenl's confidence, despite the self-assurance long years of being the torturer, rather than the tortured, had given her. Her yellow eye flicked toward the pit, and she seemed sallow in the pale, eerie violet light.
            "I talk. But you put in pit anyway. Make talk you no do, I talk all. No hurt you more again. Maglubiyet hear me," she promised, light goblin sweat rank on her brow.
            Vol, looking quite relaxed as he reclined on the floor, shrugged. "He's assured you several times he won't kill you if you tell him everything you know that's useful to us. Just talk to him, already. Personally, I don't think you know anything helpful. You might want to show us there is some value to keeping you alive."
            "Yes. I talk dragon. You want dragon? Dragon in room, lock. Keep lock." Grenl pointed in the general direction Draugrim, Nominis, Erky and Meepak had gone. "Danger, but Durbuluk take kobold dragon. You take. Have key. Want know more? Ask, I know all," the old goblin said, a trace of smugness returning to her tone as she boasted. For a goblin, she truly had nerves of steel.
            " If you know all, witch, then answer me this." Draugrim and the small scouting party had returned none worse the wear, having only jaunted around the corner and come back without thoroughly exploring the strange trophy room. The burly half-elf made to stand next to Orklar as he regarded Grenl with nothing but disgust upon his features. He struck the butt of his glaive onto the ground with each further word, hammering his question home.
            " Where. Are. My. Cousins."
            He gave a small glance to Orklar and a nod, thanking the man for keeping Grenl controlled and cajoled for the moment. But Draugrim's barely-restrained fury was palpable - for too long had he suffered at the witch's goblin claws and saw all the worse what was done to Erky. He hated her, that foul, amoral creature, barely worthy of the soul that resided within her.
            If Talgen and Sharwyn had been subjected to anything half as what he had, Draugrim resolved himself to part Grenl's head swiftly.
            At the very least, his vengeance upon her would be mercifully swift.
            Orklar cast a brief, sour glance at Draugrim. That question was to have been question number three, but then he chuckled and supposed it could just as easily become the second question.
            "Indeed," he said, turning his gaze back to Grenl. "I’d recommend answering the man’s question if you wish to keep your miserable life. And be specific . Where are his kin? Those other humans that came through."
            The passionate half-elf have Orklar a small sound of appreciation, knowing he was being pushy and stubborn. But he couldn't wait for an answer. No longer.
            Grenl turned her half-milky gaze on Draugrim, narrowed... but she no longer had the power to strike fear in his heart, it seemed. All the same, he could recognize hate when he saw it in her bloodshot-yellow good eye.
            But Grenl was nothing if not pragmatic. She huffed, and made a show of thinking.
            "Belak want humans give him. Chief Durnn take, but one make bad talk Chief Durnn. Talgen, yes? Dead. Chief Durnn take Talgen loot. So sorry," she told Draugrim with exaggerated sorrow. Before the half-elf could explode, she continued, holding up two fingers. "More humans. Big mad, but Chief tie humans rope, give down Belak. Give..." she huffed again, leaning forward to whisper now in the Ghukliak tongue, which Nominis caught the gist of. <"Sent them down to the Twilight Grove, where Belak tends the Gulthias Tree.">
            Erky nodded slowly, apparently also understanding her words. "I've heard the goblins talk about that - the grove, I mean. Seems to scare them spitless."
            Meepak finally gave up trying to drag Draugrim back out by his leg, and stomped over to Dal to pick up his complaints where he had left off. Dal groaned and clapped his hands over his ears, making the kobold that much more insistent. Vol understood his barks and yaps: <"Give up now we can't! There, right there, Calcryx was - sure of it I am!">
            Draugrim's knuckles tightened until they were white upon his poleblade, it taking every single ounce of his resolve to not bring it careening down upon the goblin and split her in twain.
            " Gods' Blood, Talgen," he breathed out slowly, trying to steady his pounding heart.
            He had always been hotheaded. Always pushed their little trio into misadventures that Draugrim would inevitably take the blame for, if put to spare his two cousins from reprisal. Had always been so fearless. Could never back down from a challenge.
            " You idiot," he growled through grit teeth, tears welling in his eyes and being pushed onto his cheeks as he clenched them shut, " You brash fool."
            Draugrim wanted to disbelieve Grenl, wanted to believe it was another trick. Another torture. But Durnn had Talgen's scale, his beautiful, glittering mail. For every lie and wicked word he had been fed while down in the dungeons of the citadel, none had broken him.
            But this?
            He lost his anger and his strength with it, pacing away from Grenl and Orklar. His legs gave and he slumped to the ground upon his knees, holding his glaive tightly to keep himself upright. There he silently wept, ignoring anything further about a Belak or a grove. None of that mattered.
            Talgen was dead.
            Perhaps Sharwyn still lived. Perhaps one of their line would return safe of the Vale.
            Talgen was dead.
            The whole citadel could crumble as far as he cared. Damn the goblins, damn the kobolds, damn every thing. No sorrow in his parents's stories could have ever prepared him for the true emotion, the true sense of loss that eroded at his very will to continue.
            Talgen was dead.
            Nala snorted and rolled over, returning to her snoring, her leg twitching as she dreamed of chasing lions on the Sharr with her tribe.
            Grenl looked on Draugrim's grief, canny enough not to smile, but clearly not upset about it. Erky hissed at her in Ghukliak, <"'Ware your tongue, goblin witch. There's a long road between here and freedom.">
            Grenl made no reply, sitting quietly, and that seemed to anger Erky more. He stomped away, fuming, and casting sympathetic looks Draugrim's way. Grenl watched them both, faintly smug.
            Meepak grew frustrated as well, snarling and hissing about losing the Dragon Queen's favor. Dal sighed gustily, speaking up, though quietly out of deference to Draugrim's feelings. "Meepak really wants us to go to wherever Nominis and Draugrim just came from. He thinks their dragon is there. Something about a chain and embers? He says their queen will be upset if we don't look there yesterday, if not sooner." He shook his head, then tried to placate the kobold priest with calming gestures. Meepak eventually sullenly accepted Dal's promise of "soon."
            Orklar seemed lost in thought for awhile. The mention of this Belak creature and a grove with a tree in it below weighed upon him. Trees, small saplings really, were running amok above ground, and now this special tree somehow grew below ground. It stank of corruption and matters unnatural. “Tell us of this Belak and why he tends this tree,” he said. “What does he want with humans?”
            Orklar shifted his position slightly to keep Draugrim in his field of vision. Grief had a way of eroding a man’s spirit, his conscience. The big half-orc didn’t want Grenl dead, and he knew Draugrim was the greatest threat at present. They needed whatever information they could obtain prior to their descent, and Orklar intended to have it.
            "Belak no talk goblins - only-" She jerked her head imperiously. "Chief Durnn listen him. But Grenl know tree." Her voice dropped to a whisper once more. "Gulthias tree. Many tree, Belak have, but Gulthias tree most. Make food two time, give goblins. Goblins take, trade human. Belak talk this."
            "Belak is some kind of druid," Erky volunteered from where he was fuming. "And the tree seems to be a papaya, from what I heard about the fruit he harvests, though I don't know how it survives down there." Erky spat, his face twisted. "An evil druid, if he's dealing with goblins."
            Brick laid on his back, his fingers carefully intertwined over his beard-covered chest. He had thought to try and catch a few winks, but the interrogation of the thrice-damned goblin and the Kobold's screechings kept him awake. A veteran soldier learned to nap in the most chaotic of situations, but sometimes the din just made it more difficult. He sighed heavily and grunted as he lifted himself back to standing, grabbing his axes into his hands as he did so. "Mebbe one c'n bring tha kobold tae tha room and shut 'm up, aye?" He didn't even wait for an answer, "Might's well be me," he grumbled as he started walking, pointing at Meepak as he passed the Kobold with an axe. "Ye wanna see tha room? C'mere den." Armed, he then led the little creature to where it wanted to go.
            Nominis stops the dwarf "Brick, wait. We were just there. And if the little beast is right, there is a dragon free in there. The chain we saw was rusted and broken. While we can fight, it will be harder if we have to keep the beast alive. And Orklar is out of spells. I think we should see if the kobold wants his dragon alive - which he almost certainly does - and what can we do to make it easier on us. I have some nets on me, we could try that. And we need to know the type of the dragon - the nets will burn unless we prepare them properly."
            He turns toward the kobold shaman and motions toward Dal to translate. "Sandman, ask the little monster what his dragons breath weapon is. And how willing would the dragon be to follow him if we just shove him inside and let them talk it out. I'm not really one for capturing intelligent beings to serve as slaves to kobolds."
            While the translation lasts he speaks to the grief stricken companion "Cousin, they were warriors and died warriors death. They must have known the risks just as you know. Respect their memory and grieve, but don't besmirch their goodness by taking revenge on helpless prisoner. If you kill her for what she did to you, she wins, she brought you to her level. We can deal with her later. I can send her to Great Shadow when we have time. Or we can trade her to kobolds. Or something,"
            Brick eyed Nominis for a moment while he considered the man's words. At last he nodded, "Aye, I hear ye, lad. Be nice ta git 'im quiet though... show'm tha chain an' sundry." He shrugged and added, "We ain't gonna git no rest if'n not."
            Draugrim did not look up at Nominis as he was addressed, instead focusing instead on a cracked stone on the floor. It was a technique his actual cousin, Anar’dulin, had tried to impart to him when the fury first started to override his ability to think.
            "Find the smallest spot, and become smaller."
            He tried. He tried desperately to shed the emotion, to cast it off into the stale air of the dungeon and rid himself of its weight. When he finally spoke to Nominis, it was with a dry, cracked voice, barely able to keep his tone solid.
            " You heard the witch - their chief gutted Talgen. He died like no Warrior, he was executed like a slave." There was no bitterness, no anger in his words - just a sad, quiet acceptance of the circumstances.
            " How do I tell Kerowyn."
            Draugrim suddenly felt a pang of fear seize his chest, causing him sit upright and grip at his heart under his armor. Panic made him feel as though his ribs would collapse inwards, but the attack fired him up into fury. The only reason this was happening was because of the goblins, those hideous monsters. They did this! They killed Talgen! They had destroyed his family!
            Pushing himself up from seated, he drove the butt of his glaive into the ground again, and then once more for good measure. He had it in his head to damn these "adventurers" - they didn't care about Talgen, they didn't care about the Hucreles! They came for beer casks and gold and other trite desires! They did not get to decide who lived and died, not anymore!
            ... But they had freed him. And Erky. And slew the creature that had killed Talgen.
            And Sharwyn, Sharwyn may yet have been alive. Draugrim had no chance of reaching his remaining cousin without help, and killing Grenl got him no closer to that goal. He couldn't lose both.
            Not both.
            " Fine!" he roared, wheeling on Nominis as if he were about to strike him but the blow was a mirage. The whirlwind lost its force as soon as it was formed, and a more somber, sober elf stood before the Fetchling.
            " Fine," he said again, slower, more controlled. Draugrim nodded, eyes shut while he rubbed away the dampness on his cheeks, " She lives. She lives for now."
            For safety's sake, Draugrim let his weapon slip to the ground, keeping it far from his grip. The last thing he wanted was it to be at hand - it was too much of an encouragement. With the means to commit violence cast aside, his sharpened ears reminded him of what Erky had said during his outburst, provoking an inquisitive look from Draugrim.
            " An ... An evil Druid, did you say?" he asked, the words sounding foreign on his tongue, " That ... That can't quite be right, not in The Vale." He shook his head and forced a laugh. " Surely there must be some sort of mistake," the Tiri Kitor reasoned, " Those who speak with nature are guardians of The Vale and those within it. They would not seek to harm others, they certainly wouldn't be working alongside these vile creatures."
            Draugrim shot a derisive look at Grenl before continuing on. " This Belak must be ... something else. A mage of a different color," he attempted to explain away, his cultural traditions making it hard to believe that a Treecaller could be willfully murderous, " Or perhaps someone posing as a Druid. Either way."
            His hands curled into fists, whitening his knuckles. " If Belak is who has Sharwyn, then Belak is whom we should seek."
            Orklar rose to his feet with no little ceremony, grunting and grimacing, but the efforts seemed practiced. He squared himself up and reeled Grenl close to him, lowering his singular gaze to meet hers. He studied her face with his menacing eye, and then nodded with a snort.
            “Fair is fair,” he said to the goblin witch. “You get to live.”
            He turned his bulk and shuffled over to the inflamed Draugrim, dragging Grenl along behind him. Once within glaive range, he drew up and spoke in clear, concise tones.
            “She lives,” he said, hauling Grenl up and letting her hang by the manacles off the ground between them. “But lend a hand if you would…and hack her arms off. As close to the shoulder as you can manage.”
            That finally got a response out of the smug goblin cleric. "You promise no hurt me! You make talk to Maglubiyet, She hear me! Maglubiyet hear me!" She snarled and tried to bite Orklar, but wasn't quite able to reach him. It didn't stop her from kicking up a fuss, though, twisting and kicking in the air, and screeching in Ghukliak. <"Maglubiyet! Hear your servant! Curse these liars, curse them-">
            “I’m already cursed--” Orklar began to talk over Grenl. “Tell him to get in line.”
            Nala grumbled and rolled over, grabbing up a stone and throwing it at the others where they stood talking. Then she rolled over to go back to sleep.
            The long haired elf sighed and shook his head. "This is silly. Just kill her. This is the same as doing so, anyway- the kobolds will kill an armless, bleeding witch as soon as we leave. At least own your responsibility for her death."
            Vol stood languidly, stretching his long arms and rolling his neck. "If your sense of honor can't abide going back on your word, maybe think about that before you promise to spare an irredeemable prisoner's life next time. Either that or don't worry about going back on your word to someone like that." He nodded at Draugrim and his glaive. "Do what you think is right, Draugrim."
            The Half-Wild Elf stared hard at the dangling Grenl, the grip on his fearsome weapon becoming ironclad. It was a tumultuous thing: to be denied vengeance, coaxed to not seek it, offered partial restitution, and then be advised that his own feelings on the matter, whatever they be, were the correct ones.
            " All of you, quiet!" he barked in frustration, his conscious in far too much conflict to be able to think straight. All he could think of was Talgen - where was the body? Would he have a funeral? Would even that most basic of decencies be denied due to the cruelty of the goblins?
            Was he, Draugrim of the Wildmane, not a monster slayer like the Tiri Kitor as a whole? Wasn't Grenl a monster of the highest order, a creature who inflicted malevolence upon her victims and took glee from the fear and pain she caused? The right thing to do, then, was to end her life entirely, but Orklar did not wish that. Not yet.
            Erky's screams resonated in his sharp-tipped ears. His own pleas for mercy came surging forth in his memory, drowned out by the witch's cackling. Talgen was dead. Sharwyn was missing. Everything was spiraling out of control.
            "Do what you think is right."
            What was right? Killing Grenl? Making her suffer as he had? By The Ancestors he wanted to, visibly struggling with his weapon, wanting to unleash it in a devastating hewer that would spray goblin blood all over the walls and floors and then, then, when the black crimson flowed, perhaps there would be satisfaction in that.
            Slowly, he raised his blade.
            She had tortured him. Tortured Erky. Talgen was killed by her warchief. Sharwyn had been given to some further horror in the levels below. Grenl had destroyed his life, stolen from him what could never be replaced if he lived as long as his father. His father, Vanguard of The Vale, Isilgrim of The Wildmane, Sure-Knocked and Fell-Handed. He would have slaughtered such an abomination at first chance, damn what anyone else had told him.
            Abominations Deserved Death.
            ... What would his mother do? She who had been ... frightened, of the anger his gift with the voice inspired. Had partially rejected the warrior that had returned from the brutal training of the Sy-tel-quessir, wishing instead to have her son be more poet than killer.
            Blood was on his hands from battle, but this felt ... Different. Off. As if cutting Grenl's flesh now would have been ...
            What?
            Justice?
            Abhorrent?
            Retribution?
            Heinous?
            Clasping the glaive tightly, Draugrim grit his teeth and swung.
            The blade buried its sharpened curve into the stone of the nearby wall, a small piece of the steel chipping and flying off away from the group.
            Grenl remained perfectly intact.
            " Killing her does not bring back Talgen - It only proves she broke me," Draugrim growled low, seemingly angry at himself for his split-second decision.
            " And I am no torturer. Not like her."
            He spat upon her drooping face to make his point, wresting his weapon from the dent he had made upon the dungeon. He scowled upon inspecting the damaged blade, the crescent moon now damaged in the center of its elegant curve.
            " Sharwyn yet lives," he affirmed, trying to take solace in that knowledge, " And so long as that remains true, I did not come here to murder nadorhuanrim like her. I came to find my family. That's what I'm going to do."
            Letting out a breath that shook his whole body, he turned away from Orklar, Grenl, Vol, Nominis, and the rest, pacing away towards the door of the chamber.
            " Do with her as you will," he waved a hand dismissively, a sorrowful fury in his tone, " I won't give her the satisfaction."
            The lanky, pale elf watched as Draugrim walked away, nodding to himself. "As you will." He turned back to Orklar, still holding the now-helpless witch. "Sadly, I can't help with what you asked, since I only have a bow." On the word 'bow,' Vol tucked his foot under his bow and quiver, kicking both up into the air. He plucked his black bow out of the air without even looking at it, focused more on the arrows as snatched one out of the finely stitched leather container.
            In less than a heartbeat he had stepped to one side to clear Orklar from his target frame, nocked, pulled, aimed, and fired an arrow at the side of the restrained witch's head from point-black range.
            The fey wild elves of the Misty Vale were definitely a breed apart from the Tiri Kitor. Where those might have hesitated, Vol's arrow speared Grenl's good eye in a blink, and the cleric's epithets and curses ended abruptly as she dangled, limp. One last sigh escaped her, and the strange violet light of the throne room flickered; then all was still.
            Meepak nodded, pleased with the death of Grenl... but he seemed in no hurry to eat her remaining eye. It stared at them, accusing.
            Erky huffed, also appeased. "As Gaerdal is my witness, it's done. Now you've just got to get rid of all these kobolds, and it'll be civilized around here again," he muttered.
            “'Bout time,” Nala muttered as Grenl’s hot blood dripped onto the floor. The gnome rolled over and started snoring away once more.
            Orklar flinched away from the arrow’s impact, more out of disgust than any real concern. Then he looked back at Grenl and shook the rope holding her with child-like experimentation. When it became clear that she wouldn’t be moving again of her own volition, the half-orc turned his eye on Vol.
            “Baah, now you’ve gone and ruined a perfectly good witch,” he said.
            He lumbered off and began unraveling the rope over his shoulder, tying it off on a sturdy section of the throne. Then he examined Grenl’s hands and hacked off the more interesting one with his dagger. Casting her body into the pit then, he thought her mangled form dangling there might serve to deter any of the goblins that fled below from returning through the night. He squeezed most of the blood out of the hand and into the pit and then turned away, preparing to settle in for the night.

            The next morning Nala yawned and stretched awake. She started a fire from the detritus of the goblin camp and threw some sausages into a pan to fry up for breakfast, waiting for the others to awaken.
            Sleep had not come easily for Draugrim Wildmane. Though the death of Grenl was at least a finality to the dilemma, the half-elf wasn't entirely confident on his feelings about it yet.
            Yet, the choice was made. The die had been cast. All there was left was to live with the roll.
            The smell of food shook him from his dark mood, and a growling stomach reminded him that he had been given little that he would call 'edible' ever since being captured.
            " Gods above that smells divine," he praised while rousing from his bedroll, stretching languidly to force his sore muscles to work. The fight, though brief, had been more activity than he had experienced in nigh on a moon, his body still adjusting to rigorous activity again.
            A glance up at his glaive, leaning against the stone walls, left a small frown on his roughened features. He'd have to fix the chip at some point, or even replace the blade entirely. Until then, Draugrim knew it would hold. It had to.
            Forcing himself up, Draugrim went to his disheveled pack, pulling out the glittering scale armor within. Fondly did his hand caress the steel, and with reverence did he dip his brow to its breast. After the small oblation, he let out the brilliant mail near the the campfire.
            " The man who wore this would not want it to go to waste," Draugrim informed the party solemnly, " Any amongst you who can wear it, and do so with pride, can don it until we return to my aunt. We'll need every advantage we can get until we can free Sharwyn and the others."
            He set afterwards towards helping Nala prepare a meal to start the day, sorting through the goblin rations and picking out the things that would be palatable to non-goblinoid tastes: mushrooms, edible roots, and even black pudding were discovered and added to the meal, all of them serving to make the dish hearty and nutritious.
            While breakfast was prepared, Draugirm assessed what the day would bring.
            " Our kobold friend seemed insistent on the room we found yesterday, Nominis," the Tiri Kitor observed, " Pretty damned excited about his dragon. I wager that room demands a closer look." He glanced at Meepak with a measure of disinterest. " Sooner we are done with the kobolds, sooner we don't have to worry (as much) about what's at our backs before we head down."
            It was a gamble, for sure. He was delaying in finding Sharwyn, but there was no point in rescuing his cousin only to die to a tribe of spurned kobolds while trying to escape the ruined citadel. One step at a time.
            Orklar rose with his typical slow fortitude and helped break camp after his morning rituals. His own preparations also included hauling Grenl back up, unlocking the manacles from her, sitting her on the throne, and retrieving his rope.
            “Don’t rest too easy,” Orklar said. “I imagine the kobolds will be nothing but trouble once our business with them is done.”
            “They saw how we deal with our enemies,” Nala replied to Orklar. “If they betray us, they will get worse.” She gave Meepak a dark, warning look. Then she sat back making happy sounds as she munched on a sausage and drank some ale.
            Unlike the half-elf, Vol had rested quite peacefully, dreaming of loves lost and dappled glades. His melancholy was strong as he shook off the reverie, once again working hard to place his mind in the here and now and not dwell on things past. He nodded at Draugrim. "I wouldn't want to have to deal with a tribe of angry kobolds if I didn't have to. Let's go look for this dragon once we're done with breakfast."

            The party gathered outside the locked trophy room with Meepak chirping excitedly - and a throng of interested kobold onlookers, the tribe having swarmed the goblin town and put any remaining goblins to the sword. The mood of the reptiles was buoyant, if they gleeful yipping and scurrying about with "treasures" was anything to go by. The kobolds appeared quite pleased their new territory, and much happier with the party.
            <"From respect for you, wait to open the door we have,"> Meepak announced importantly to Dalian. <"Allow you to fullfill the terms of our agreement, we will, though ourselves we could do this, now.">
            Dal translated with as little irony as he could manage. "I suppose it's a good thing Draugrim kept hold of that key."
            "The key wouldn't be what's stopping them," Erky reluctantly admitted. "Evil little bastards, but they're clever with things like locks."
            Once they had opened the door, a scene similar to that of the previous day greeted them. Heads and hands and ears on the walls, some human or elven or even dwarven, and a few kobold heads that made Meepak make that strange sign before himself. Destruction and chaos reigned in the room, and it was hot - far hotter than any other room down here in the depths of the Citadel, reminiscent of the noonday heat far above - and that thick layer of smoking ash, tiny gleams of live embers beneath some of it. The iron spike with the broken chain stood in the middle of it all - but there was no dragon in sight.
            <"In you must go,"> Meepak commanded. <"If not here Calcryx is, elsewhere you must search.">
            Vol frowned and made a small gesture, summoning four spheres of pastel colored light that hovered over his hand until he flicked them into the corners of the room, lighting up the dark spaces within. "It's hot enough for a dragon. And something's been maintaining those embers, or else they would've died. Watch yourselves." He took up position to fire into the room but did not move to go in.
            Nominis speaks from somewhere within deepest shadows around. "Sandman, ask the dragon will it speak with Meepak. And think hard if you agreed to FIND it or to recapture it. I'd hate to have yet another dragon come after me when it grows enough to incinerate the kobolds."
            Orklar’s visage was sour as the group huddled outside this chaotic chamber. He saw no ready means of egress save the entrance they blocked, and the notion that a dragon awaited, cornered in this room did not sit atop his breakfast very well. He was festooned with gear and lurked behind his shield with compacted distaste, recounting the events that had unfolded to lead them to this point in the journey.
            “Our agreement was reward for the return of this dragonling,” he said as point of clarification for Erky and Draugrim. “And bringing harm to the creature would lead to our never leaving the citadel alive…according to the white lizard, Yusdrayl.”
            “If this is where the dragon is,” he added, nodding towards Meepak. “Let their dragon ‘handler’ have at it.”
            Nominis points at Meepak and then into the room. "Go, talk to your dragon."
            Meepak hissed at them when Dal translated Nominis' words. <"Fullfill your pledge, you do not. I, Meepak the Blue, the dragon regain!"> Still, he seemed hesitant to step into the detritus of destruction.
            Nala peered into the closet. “I don’t see a dragon,” she said. “I’ve only ever seen them flying at a distance, occasionally grabbing up a buffalo from the Sharr.” Then she raised her voice. “HELLO! MR. DRAGON! YOU’RE FREE OF THOSE NASTY GOBLINS NOW! YOU CAN GO HOME!” She stepped into the room to poke around at the mess.
            Chuckling despite himself at Nala's reassurances to the dragon, Draugrim rested his glaive over his shoulders, hanging his arms over the pole while twisting his torso left and right. Over his chest was now Talgen's shimmering mail, none else in the party having claimed the piece. Draugrim saw it only fitting, then, that such a beautiful armor not go to waste: it would be an honor to have a piece of his fallen cousin with him as he set off to save Sharwyn - a new legend to add to the Wildmane-Hucrele name.
            "Well that's one way to announce ourselves," the Half-Wild Elf noted, the tribal tattoos upon his face stretching a bit as he grinned darkly, "Though if we're to return this Dragon, I ah ... I think our little kobold 'counselor' is going to need some help."
            Flipping his glaive back into his hands, Draugrim stepped cautiously towards the room he had opened the day before, still finding the scenery to be ... eerie, to say the least. He attuned his pointed eyes and sharp eyes to the magical light available and gave a few sniffs to the air: Dragon had to have a distinctive smell, didn't it? More than that, he also didn't want to stumble into a trap in the room.
            Or worse, have the dragon hurt itself. It sounded like that would be a poor outcome.
            Brick grunted, shifting his grip on his axes. "I ain't see no dragon 'ere," he muttered. He followed Nala into the room and poked around as well, but more deliberately and systematically.
            The room did indeed have a certain musk to it, though whether it was that of the dragon or the other trophies in the room, Draugrim couldn't determine. Erky muttered something about being damned if he'd let pretty young gnomes face danger while he cowered, and stepped into the room to search as well, taking the opposite side from Brick.
            The ash proved to skate along the surface of the flagstones in an unnatural way, making them extremely slippery, as well as hot. Most of them managed to keep their feet, whether by good balance or sheer luck - but Brick's legs slipped out from under him, and he fell with a clatter of mail.
            When nothing immediately happened to them, Meepak finally scurried into the room too. He was moving over toward Brick, chirping inquisitively, when something moved under one of the broken tables.
            It was small, perhaps the size of a smallish dog, with scales of emerald, blood red, and burnished copper, and a neck curled back on itself like a bird's. Beautiful and graceful, it craned back tiny wings and opened its jaws at them, though no sound issued forth.
            "By all the Heavens," Draugrim swore softly, resting his glaive over his shoulder so it couldn't be mistaken as threatening the tiny dragon. His eyes widened and a grin spread rapidly over his cheeks. He reached down to Brick to help the Dwarf back to his feet, never taking his eyes off of the small, flying reptile.
            "It's adorable!" he laughed, cooing to the creature in Elvish while crouching down to be more on level with it.
            "This is what we're all so afeared of? I've seen catfish bigger than this little guy!"
            Gently, Draugrim laid his glaive on the ground and held his arm out to the baby dragon, as a falconer did to his bird. In the lilting, soothing tongue of his forefathers, the warrior-poet sang to the diminutive-yet-powerful creature, trying to keep him calm to either pacify him or lull him closer so the group could swiftly (and without danger) return the dragon cub back to where he belonged.
            "Oi!" Brick vocalized when the little dragon showed itself. Having fallen on his arse he wasn't in an ideal defensive position. Once Draugrim helped him regain his footing, he assumed a defensive stance, his axes extended towards the creature. "Tank ye lad," he said, "we killin it or wut?"
            “No, we aren’t killing it!” Nala said to Brick. “We were hired to find it. The kobolds didn’t have the strength to fight through all those goblins to find it,” she explained to the new members of the group, lowering her axe, unthreatening.
            “Hello, wee one,” she spoke to the dragon. “We’ve come to take you home.”
            Draugrim looked with shock and appall at the Dwarf, as if the bearded warrior had just kicked a puppy.
            "KILL him? Firstly aren't we supposed to RESCUE him? Also how could you possibly want to harm this beautiful creature! Look how his scales shimmer! How he stretches his wings! Oh he's going to be a big one when he gets older!"
            Inwardly, Draugrim would have been quite happy if he were not around when that day finally came - Dragons were temperamental things in their old age. He continued his soothing tune to the creature, the Elvish alternating between praising and placating the diminutive Calcryx.
            The dragonling's jaws snapped shut again, only for it to pipe in the common tongue, "You are wise to present yourselves as servants of the mighty Calcryx! Never could you withstand my power!" It stretched its wings out, making itself look larger.
            Still wary, the elven archer kept his bow and arrow ready but aimed at the floor. "What are we rescuing it from , though. If it was just a locked door, the kobolds could have gotten in here themselves." He looked at Dal to keep up the charade that he didn't understand Meepak. "Is your little friend satisfied now or is there something else in here?"
            Meepak skittered back, startled at the sudden appearance of his precious dragon. Lowering his sword, he kept his shield up. <"Great Calcryx! Return you, I have come to!">
            Calcryx narrowed reptilian eyes at the kobold.
            Nominis lurks outside, net at the ready, but at the moment, with all of the party inside, tightly packed in front of him, he cannot see the creature without revealing himself. And he definitely cannot toss the net. But he learned patience in the hunt so he waited in silence.
            Orklar’s large form leaned toward Vol so the big half-orc could catch sight of the happenings. He chuckled in surprise when he saw the dragonling. He hadn’t been sure the Kobolds had been telling the truth.
            “Yes, and already with a sizable following,” Orklar’s line of talk echoed Draugrim’s. “Smart that. Having a group of worshippers to do your bidding. It works for the gods.”
            The dragonling craned its neck at Orklar, looking smug. "Yes. I am your new god! Tremble before me!" Then it turned its emberlike eyes on Meepak.
            "And as my first command, I order that you stand back, and bring forth the kobold."
            Calcryx lifted his scaly lips at Meepak, revealing needle teeth, and switched to its own tongue. <"I will never return to your cage, to be kept as a common pet! Meet your doom, kobold!">
            Meepak gaped, caught flat-footed by the dragon's demand.
            Vol jerked, clearly surprised at this turn of events. "He wants to eat the kobold. Apparently they've been keeping..." he had almost said 'it' before remembering the dragon spoke perfectly fluent Common, "ah, our mighty god Calcryx in a cage, as a pet."
            Meepak cowered behind his shield, edging back behind Draugrim. <"Great Calcryx, with me you must come! For your own good, it is!"> he wailed in the dragon tongue.
            A thin plume of smoke began to issue from Calcryx's nostrils. Erky tried to appear casual as he stayed where he was, hands suspiciously close to his weapons. A snort and dismissive flick of the tail from Calcryx suggested that Erky wasn't fooling him.
            "I warn you, do not tempt my ire," the wyrmling chirped, spreading wings long enough to have brushed both sides of the chamber, had it been centered in it.
            The tall, white haired elf knelt and bowed his head. He continued to speak in Common so that Meepak didn't understand what was being said. "Great and powerful Calcryx! I would never doubt your wisdom, but you may not know that this kobold is the bravest and mightiest of his tribe. If you intend to groom these pitiful creatures into a tribe of followers worthy of your name, perhaps you should use this one as breeding stock. I am sure that once you return to them and make your demands known, the kobolds will understand how best to serve you and provide proper accommodations for a magma dragon such as yourself."
            "Hmmph. What guarantees do I have that the kobolds will not attempt to imprison me again?" Calcryx peered at Vol over Nala's head, his neck snaking out. "But you speak sense. Very well. For freeing me from these idiots, I grant you your request," he clucked magnanimously.
            <"You owe the elf your life,"> Calcryx told Meepak, and if the kobold had been able to sweat, he definitely would have been sweating now. <"This shall be my new lair - and if you wish to live, it is now you who serve me.">
            <"Y-your declaration I will bring before Yusdrayl, great Calcryx,"> Meepak told the dragon nervously, wincing when it puffed smoke. He scuttled out of the room, slipping and sliding on the strangely slippery ash, and motioned for the party to come with him.
            "Ah ah! Not so fast," Calcryx hissed. "The key to this room. Give it to me."
            “We need to get going, to get below,” Orklar said quietly to those at hand. “These scaly folk can sort out their own business.”
            The big half-orc leaned back from the doorway with a steady motion and added, “Before we’re forced to take sides.”
            Nala didn’t really follow what was being said since she didn’t speak Draconic. She looked between the dragon and Meepak. “Meh. Serves you right. We cool here then?” she asked the dragon. “We got more goblins to kill and people to rescue.” She turned to follow the others out of the closet.
            "Do not presume to turn your back on me!" Calcryx hissed, bristling so that his beautiful scales stood out from his body. "The key!"
            "Between the memory of a dragon and a tribe of kobolds, I know which side I'd choose." Vol looks around at the group. "Who has the key? Let's give it to Calcryx and go."
            "I do," Draugrim spoke up, catching the dragon's eyes and slowly reaching for a pocket where the key rested.
            "We shall give you the key, O Mighty Calcryx," the Half-Elf confirmed for the draconic child, holding the key aloft and approaching the creature slowly.
            "And we hope that in this agreement, you find the strength in words over weapons," Draugrim added, hoping that the party's return back out of the Citadel did not place them in the middle of a war between a very angry Kobold tribe and an equally furious wyrmling.
            Inwardly, Draugrim was quite happy to move on though: despite the apparent adorableness of Calcryx which nobody else seemed to care for, the Tiri Kitor was still not looking to get involved in the disputes of scaly folk. Sharwyn was still in danger, and Draugrim was not going to fail to rescue her.
            "Yesssssss." The dragon's neck snaked out so that he could snatch the key from Draugrim. Once it was clutched safely in his claws, he regarded them with lidded red eyes.
            "Very well. You may go," Calcryx agreed loftily, adding for Meepak, "You. Get me food."

            The party managed to exit the trophy chamber without falling flat on their faces or being singed from the strangely slippery ash and coals. Meepak bowed and scraped the whole way out, and sighed with relief when they were safely into the smoke-filled hall. The cooler temperature of the Citadel was all the more noticeable when stepping directly out of the heat of Calcryx's new lair. Once outside, Meepak told some nearby kobolds to drag a few of the goblin bodies into Calcryx's presence. They obeyed, treating him with respect.
            <"As we asked, you have done,"> Meepak informed the party, pulling together the scraps of his dignity. <"To Yusdrayl you must come, your reward to collect."> Dal translated as he motioned to some of the kobold bounders securing their new territory, and they came forward to escort the party back to the Hall of Dragons.
            “No one relinquishes power willingly,” Orklar said after the translation came through. “She will not be happy, and our reward will be kobold spear tips if we go back with them now.”
            “We should forego this ‘reward’, and be on our way,” he added. He stood implacably in the smoky hall, unmoving. “Our business is elsewhere.”
            Nominis stows away his net and joins others in the hall without aknowledging the dragon. "This was foolish risk, entering like that in a room obviously inhabitet. And you balk at going to the kobolds? We expanded their territory. We found the dragon. We essentialy erradicated the goblins. Do you really think they will try anything?"
            The Shadow Weaver looks around. "Their reward may be something from below, loot randomly scrounged from a dead opponent. Or something useless. But any power or advantage we can get, we should. Including trying to get some of their warriors with us. Promise them more territory, we care only about the adventurers anyhow. And with your propensity to just charge in, we could use them."
            Vol shrugged, noncommittal. "I don't know what kind of treasure the kobolds would have that they didn't already try to use against the goblins, but clearing up- either way- how the kobolds feel about us before we go down and then have to come back up, possibly hurt and in need of a secure place to rest, can only help us in the future." The archer cracked his knuckles. "If they intend to ambush us, we might as well get it out of the way now."
            "It is only a trap if it is unexpected. Otherwise it is just an obstacle to be overcome." Nominis comments "But it would be good for us if we stay civil until attacked and not separate by charging in. Wee Fury and Brick, stay and protect the casters and the archer. Let them come to us. And you, Long-Ears, get the Sorceress first if it comes to that."
            He thinks for a moment "Lets just talk to them, Cousin and Sandman should probably talk the most."
            "I'm inclined to agree with the plan that does not have me carrying possibly-injured family back through a nest of rather irate kobolds," Draugrim spoke up, giving Vol and Nominis a nod.
            "Much as I want to get to Sharwyn, long has my mother reminded me of the times Tethadriel, Breaker of A Thousand Shields, plowed ahead into dungeons like this only to have to cleave her way back out with her mighty halberd. Doing that while watching out for those that may not be able to fight for themselves?"
            Draugrim shook his head. "Doesn't seem the best idea. Kobolds first, I say. Then." He pointed his glaive towards the west. "Then we deal with whatever lays below. This ... Druid, or whatever it calls itself, and we rescue Sharwyn and whomever else of her company may be alive."
            Orklar sighed deeply and his head tilted back, his single eye staring at the smoke shrouded ceiling. Inky syllables slipped from his lips, and while the language was unknown the tone was easy enough to make out as he seemed to be arguing with himself. Exasperation, disbelief, and probably a fair amount of cursing. Another exhale followed the first, and he tilted his head back down.
            “And the dragonling?” he asked, his eye roving to each. “I can’t imagine it will respond well if you decimate its new cult of followers. Especially after that being the reason given to not rampage through our ranks. Will you destroy it as well after the kobolds are gone?”
            "I feel we're leaping to rather dour conclusions, don't you think?" Draugrim chimed in, tilting his head with perplexity at Orklar's summation.
            "Who is to say we cannot convince these Kobolds to accept this current arrangment - for the time being - just as we convinced the wyrmling? Nobody says there must be blood by the end of this. Their queen asked you lot to find the dragon and make sure it was safe. Far as I can see, that was done - look now how the kobolds attend him. They're not turning spears nor javelins against us."
            The Half-Elf shrugged, knowing it paid to be cautious but ultimately thinking that distrust for the sake of distrust was not going to be very helpful. He idly touched at the markings of his face while rationalizing further.
            "I've no interest in outright massacring an entire group of people," Draugrim declared flatly, "And I doubt it will come to that. Dragon rescued, goblins dead, a whole new area to expand to for the tribe - we've done a lot of positive work for these kobolds. If they'd turn on us simply because we aren't going to drag the dragon child back in chains, then more foolish of them by far. It's their god, or idol, or whatever they consider him. Let them come and figure out how to collect him."
            He grinned a touch wildly. "Besides. We talked down the 'Great And Mighty Calcryx', did we not?" Draugrim chuckled softly, knowing the wyrmling could probably rip them to shreds but also finding the tiny draconian simply too adorable to take very seriously, "How much harder could a Kobold Queen be?"
            Draugrim honestly did not know how much more difficult it could have been, but he was feeling a touch more confident than he had been prior to their rest. Sharwyn was alive - he could feel it. If the Kobolds could help him reach her, all the better.
            Nominis listens and shakes još head "One-Eye. Even if we slaughter nine out of ten of them, there are no more goblins to threaten them. In couple of years,they will be back. But I don't think they would be stupid enough to attack us at full strength. Just when we return."
            Nala shrugged. “If they attack us, we kill them. They end up just like the goblins. Then we feed them to the dragon, keep it happy,” she said with her barbarian simplicity. “By the way, Meepak,” she said, looking to the kobold. “I’d say stuff that dragon so full of food. Let him get so fat he can’t get out of that little closet. Probably safer for everyone.”
            Meepak cocked his head at her, chirping inquisitively.
            Orklar took a step toward Draugrim. It wasn’t a menacing step, but it had weight, and purpose just the same. The one cobalt eye bore into the skald, simmering with intent.
            “I’m an oracle. A seer,” he said. “I don’t ‘leap’. Life is my trade, and death my curse. I see it where others are blind. So let me paint you a slightly different picture.”
            “We were charged by Yusdrayl to recover the dragon,” he said as he straightened and swung his gaze to include all those present at some point in his delivery as a reminder of her words. “Instead, we chose to side with the dragon and support it in usurping her power, giving it our fealty and the key to its freedom,” he said. “In exchange for our lives, we offered it the servitude of the entire kobold clan.”
            “So now you mean to walk into a queen’s court, and in front of all of her subjects explain to her how you handled everything, and, oh, by the way, she now serves that dragonling?!” Orklar pointed and roared laughter. He couldn’t help it. The absurdity of it was pristine. His raucous laughter carried on for a few moments, then tapered to chuckling, then dwindled to an eye-wiping smile.
            “Oh, that’s a face I would love to see, a priceless reaction for the story books indeed,” he said. Then the mirth slipped from his face cleanly. “Except that I won’t be there.”
            “Go on,” he flicked a dismissive hand. “I’ll happily yield my share of whatever ‘reward’ she offers you.”
            The tall, lanky elf shrugged. "Alright." He looked at the others. "Let's go."
            Nominis frowns at the Oracle "One-Eye, that is not the way. I don't agree with many things this group does. But I will not abandon them or make them abandon me. We're stronger together and none should hold his own opinions above others. Join us, you can remain on the side with me while others talk. Your power is life, you say. Yet, what happens if any of them die because you weren't there and you could have been?"
            “I’m only a guide. I can only point the way,” Orklar said and shrugged. “If my words aren’t heeded and a different path chosen, destiny will make due.”
            He shuffled about as he talked, managing his gear and repositioning the numerous scavenged items he carried. Then he leaned heavily on his staff and continued. “But I am not beholden to you,” he said. “The sight lead me here, and my bones told me you needed minding, so I came along. Now the bones have stopped talking, and that’s rarely good. Need to look into that, I do. So you go have your palaver with the kobold queen. Plenty of you. One less crippled half-breed won’t make a sot of difference.”
            He glanced up at the ceiling again, but his eye was looking well beyond it. “I’m going to check on my ass,” he said. “Haul up all this crap. Maybe have a mug of ale or two. Then I’ll have a sit down and see what my bones say. They like to talk they do, but you gotta give ‘em your undivided attention every now and then to hear true. True enough. Come up top when you’re through with your kobold business. I’m sure I’ll have it all sorted out by then.”
            Then he started limping his slow gait toward the eastern door. He only paused long enough to cast a brief but questioning glance at Dalian.
            Dalian hesitated, the pause growing long enough to highlight the young man's honest desire to escape the confines of the Sunless Citadel. He gazed at the half-orc with an expression that twisted between justification and self-recrimination... but in the end, he shook his head.
            "They'll need to know what the kobolds are saying," he explained, but held a hand up before any could speak. "But after that, I may join you."
            Brick grunted as he returned his axes to their slings on his back. "Ye be asked ta find tha dragon, aye? Well, dat be done. Wot tha dragon an tha kobolds do now ain't our problem." He shrugged, knowing it didn't really matter now. He fell in step with the others. While he was a newcomer to the group, he'd still back them up.
            Meepak - and his "honor guard" of kobold bounders - waited during their discussion with a patience that suggested he didn't understand what they were talking about. When Orklar turned and left, he chirruped at the guards, and a second detachment peeled off to go with the half-orc.
            Then Meepak waved for the party to follow him, and with the bounders behind them, they went to see the kobold queen.

            While the others had been the long way around before, the sights they passed were new to Brick and Draugrim. When they reached the chamber with the kobold pyre and the broken cage, they could see what Calcryx meant - his current room, small as it was, was a considerable step up from his previous accomodation. As they walked, they saw all manner of kobolds running back and forth, consolidating their new territory. When they saw the party, they stopped to chirp, their heads bobbing up and down.
            The Hall of Dragons, to Brick, was both impressive in that the double row of relief-carved marble columns depicting entwining dragons could have been dwarven work, and sad, in that the carvings were worn and deteriorated.
            Meepak lead them proudly down the long hall to the end, where a short throne stood near the wall, constructed of fallen bits of masonry stacked against an old altar. The top of the altar was arrayed with a variety of items, while the portion of it that served as the back of the throne featured a carving of a rearing dragon, a metallic key held firmly in the dragon's open mouth. Meepak stopped them before they reached it, at a respectful distance.
            Curled upon the throne sat a white-scaled kobold in fancy red robes, surrounded by red-scaled kobold bounders with fine red capes. Meepak bowed deeply before her. <"Queen Yusdrayl of the Dragon Throne!"> he announced. The red-clad kobolds hissed at the party, and Meepak glanced back at them. <"Bow, you must!"> Dalian translated quietly, dropping to one knee to oblige the little reptiles. Erky harrumphed, but apparently decided against insulting Yusdrayl to her face, for he bowed briefly, though he never let the kobolds out of his sight.
            Already familiar with the proceedings, lost tribesman bows to the queen of kobolds.
            Vol was also not too proud to bow to a kobold in her own lair.
            The kobolds hissed as the rest of the party failed to bow, and Yusdrayl's eyes narrowed.
            Meepak, head bowed, approached the throne, and murmured in Yusdrayl's ear. The white kobold nodded, then turned her attention to the party as Meepak bowed his way back, standing to one side.
            Queen Yusdrayl stood on her throne, casting an imperious gaze over the party. <"Before me victorious you come. Done as you promised, you have,"> she hissed and clicked. Glancing at Meepak, she nodded. <"As promised, and more. Calcryx, you have rescued. Territory, you have gained for the Tooth of Calcryx. Your reward you may choose, as agreed."> She waved her arm, and Meepak went to the altar, reverently plucking up each thing lying upon it, and giving it to one of the guards. The guards arrayed before Yusdrayl, then moved forward a few steps, so that the things in their hands could be clearly seen. As Yusdrayl named them, each guard held their prize high.
            The first item was a small flask. <"A poison, this once was. Now, with the magic of herbs, medicine against disease Meepak has made it. Drink it all at once, you must not. Enough for three, there is.">
            The second item was a feather, long and golden, shimmering like living flame. <"The feather of a phoenix, this is. Destroyed all in its path, the bird of fire did - but where its wings touched, new life appeared. Grow a tree in moments, this feather can.">
            The third item was a scroll written in Draconic runes, curling dragons inked around its edges. <"The scales of a dragon, this magic will grant you. Beware - fade again within the hour, they will.">
            The fourth item was also a scroll written in Draconic runes. <"Climb like a spider, this magic allows. A shorter time than the scales of a dragon, it lasts.">
            The fifth item was a scroll written in the curling script of the heavens. <"Holy fire that does not burn, this magic makes. Purple and green, the flames. Beauty and dragon's fire.">
            Finally, Yusdrayl pointed to the key clenched in the teeth of her throne. <"The Key of the Ancients. For rescuing our dragon from the goblins, with this I am willing to part.">
            Her tail curled around her as she crouched on her throne. <"Two of these things from the Dragon Throne, you may take - or the Key of the Ancients. Wisely, you must choose."> The kobolds around her slammed the butts of their spears on the stone floor, the sound echoing in the long Hall of Dragons.
            As she offers the items Nominis examines each as they are described, but focuses on the key. He comments to others "The rest of the things we can probably get in human world, once we get out and get some money. But the key...gods only know what it guards." Turning to Dal
            "Sandman, ask if they know what it opens and also ask for one more boon, permission to walk all of the halls here. They get to keep any new territory, we get to keep whatever we find. Win-win."
            Vol looked closely at each thing as the kobold presented them, not needing the translation. At the end, he nodded at Nominis. "I agree. The key is the only thing here we couldn't get elsewhere." He looked at Dal. "Also, ask if we can leave to go back to town and return and have safe passage through their territory to the lower levels. We don't want to leave and then have them bar our way when we try to come back."
            Dal obliged them, respectfully speaking to Meepak rather than directly to Yusdrayl. Meepak faithfully repeated their requests. However, the kobold Queen had not forgotten their slight.
            <"Divided, Hucrele's Motley is. Respectful, some are. Some are not."> Yusdrayl's tail lashed. <"New territory for us, Hucrele's Motley may walk freely. Go and return, I give you the right to do, you who show the Dragon Throne proper deference - and barter for the rest of our treasures, you may. Go, the rest may. Negotiate to return, once gone, they must. But for now, your reward you all may claim. The key you have chosen?"> She gestured with a wide sweep of her arm. <"Taken it from the mouth of the dragon before, none have.">
            Nala followed the others back to the kobolds. When Dalian told them they needed to bow, Nala looked skeptical, but she shrugged and gave the required bow. She listened to the offered rewards and shrugged. Magic papers were useless to her. The potion might be nice, but the key was very shiny! And if there was a key, there had to be a door, right? Probably somewhere in this ruined citadel. That seemed more promising. “I say take the key,” she told the others.
            Brick narrowed his eyes as the queen announced the various 'rewards'. He didn't really trust Kobold knowledge of such things, and the descriptions of their alchemical creation gave him pause. "Aye," he agreed with the others, "tha key."
            Draugrim was not about to go against the group's thoughts towards the key, and so instead patiently waited for the deliberations to be over. The Half-Elf managed a smile for the self-titled Queen of Kobolds, thankful that the chamber had not dissolved into violence and bloodshed much as Orklar had feared. In truth, the holy man's faith in his prophetic visions had rattled Draugrim considerably: though not exactly a man of the gods, Wildmane-Hucrele still knew to give them their oblations where do, and knew of how the spirits of nature could be unforgiving if their premonitions were not heeded. To know that the Half-Orc saw the works of the Beyond and could tell the future from them, well.
            That was not exactly what Draugrim had expected, to say the least. But a useful talent, indeed.
            <"Your reward, you have chosen. Come and claim it,"> Yusdrayl said, her tone portentious. The kobolds looked on as she left her throne, surrounded by her guards, and stepped aside to give the party access.
            Erky stepped forward, reaching in from the side of the throne for the key. Grasping it, he pulled. And pulled.
            The key didn't budge.
            "Maybe one of you stronger types can come pull this loose," Erky said, disgruntled, as he backed away from the throne, then returned to the party. The kobold onlookers hissed with amusement.
            Brick hung back in the group and didn't even flinch when the 'Kobold queen' called him out for not bowing. He wasn't about to show deference to kobolds of all things. They could have their little territory, and he knew they couldn't really stop him if he chose to walk through.
            "Bah," he said as Erky failed to retrieve the key. "Ye be needin a Dwarf." He sauntered over to the key's resting place and examined it before attempting to retrieve it.
            “Weak from imprisonment,” Nala consoled Erky, showing the respect due an elder. “We will try.” Nala followed Brick up to the key and studied it, as well.
            "Aye, that's right," Erky grunted, a bit less disgruntled. "If I were at my full strength, I'd have that key out!"
            Nominis observes from the side. "Maybe it needs a password. But the key was offered and the kobolds should take it. Sandman, ask them about it."
            Dalian did as he was instructed, but the kobolds only hissed. <"If take the key you cannot, with us it will remain. The strength of you giants, we do not have,"> Meepak voiced.
            Nala examined the stone dragon's mouth, but could see no way a trap could have been applied to it.
            But even with Nala's help and their careful study of the stonework, Brick couldn't pull the key loose on his first try. It took their combined effort for more than a minute to finally yank their prize out of the stone that so firmly held it.
            "Told you it was stuck," Erky said, satisfied that his honor was not besmirched by his failure.
            <"Go now, and for us new territory win,"> Yusdrayl intoned, curling back up on her throne with lidded eyes, and the watching kobolds yipped and chittered in approval.
            Nala grunted as she and Brick finally got the key loose. “Ah ha! We triumph!” she exalted, holding the key up as high as her little gnome arms could -- roughly to Brick’s chin. “Now we just need to know where to stick it,” she mused. “Now we go down?” she asked the others.
            Vol nodded at her, smiling in anticipation. "Yes. Now we go down."
            Brick grunted satisfactorily and returned to the group, perfectly content to let Nala carry their prize. "Aye, let us be outta 'ere." Then, after a beat, "ain't there more locked doors what we ain't been able to open?"
            Dalian paused, a series of emotions crossing his face. Chief among them was weariness. Once the party had left the august presence of Yusdrayl, and the kobold honor guard had left them to their own devices once more, Dal spoke up.
            "I'm going to join Orklar up top. I'm sorry... this is proving more enervating than I had expected a life of adventure to be," he apologized. He wished them well, then headed for the way out.
            "Gaerdal's blessing upon you, lad," Erky called after him. Weak though the middle-aged gnome was from his ordeal, he showed no sign of wanting to abandon them as well.
            "Now, let's go bash some goblin noggins," he said, grinning in anticipation.