Chapter 4 - Into the Citadel - The Kobold Court

            Nothing appeared magical to Orklar's discerning gaze, and Nominis was able to open the door with little trouble. The party edged along the catwalk, one by one, secured with Orklar's rope, and entered the shell of the tower.
            Cobbled with cracked granite, the hollow tower of loose masonry reached a height of thirty feet, the intervening floors and stairs gone, except for a few crumbled ledges. Vol's bluish witchlights cast long shadows behind them, and gave everything an eerie tint.
            Four rat-gnawed goblin corpses sprawled within, seemingly slain in combat. One stood with its back against the wall, the spear that had taken its life still skewering it, holding it upright.
            Three wooden doors led out of the tower, one of which they had just come through.
            Frowning at the light, Nominis makes a round around the room, playing special attention to the walls and floor around the door. As he goes he looks for telltale signs of hidden doors, but doesn't stop to analyze every onih of the walls. After that he looks at the middle of the room for pit traps. Only after that is he willing to move freely.
            Nala followed the others into the tower. As Nominis checked for traps, she carefully moved along the wall toward the left door to peer through, on the lookout for danger.
            The creaking door opened to reveal a wide hall, the masonry walls of which were in poor repair. The far end, just barely glimpsed by even Nala's sharp eyes, was especially bad, as it had completely collapsed, filling the dark end with rubble. The right wall was in much better shape than the others, and held a stone door with something carved in relief upon it.
            Orklar strolled into the center of the large room, spinning slowly and gazing up into the tower’s reaches as he mused.
            “Goblins in the pit, goblins in the hall,” he said. “One of them even skewered to a wall. Hmm.” He squatted down next to one of the corpses, knife drawn. “This one’s pointing toward the door on the right,” he said, making note of the conveniently placed hand. Dal spared Orklar a second glance at the rhyme.
            With his knife, Orklar then sawed the directing finger off of that hand before rising to his full height to examine it.
            "Watch those bodies, we don't want to fight them if they are cursed." Taking his own advice, Nominis stabs pinned goblin before approaching.
            Neither the goblin with the amputated finger or the skewered goblin put up a fuss about being assaulted, and as Nominis searched the bodies for anything of value, Orklar determined from his purloined finger that the bodies were about a month dead.
            The corpses were bare of anything of value, though there were a few goblin-sized shortswords either clutched in their hands or lying near them.
            Anticipating the answer, Dal came forward with his lit staff to look at the spear that was pinning the goblin upright. He expected to see it was of relatively newer manufacture, and not as dusty or aged as most of the other materials around here.
            "You're all fluent observers and explorers," Dal complimented aloud, feeling a bit out of his league, but still more than willing to contribute. They all seemed to be taking the darkness and the unknown in experienced stride.
            Having gained what he could of the spear's age, Dal wandered over to the stone door, holding his light aloft to ascertain what the relief carvings upon it might be depicting.
            "So, we're going through the main door, stone door? Or those the goblin shows? I'd rather not run into whatever he pointed at. Assuming he did and didn't just fell that way." Nominis asks while looking around the wooden door and into the newly opened hall. He checks the angle of the light and stealthily enters the hall before anyone answers. He carefully studies the fallen masonry before moving toward the door in near-total darkness.
            As Nominis slipped forward again, Dal considered it was interesting how they acted as five individuals exploring the same venue, versus one group. No master of tactics, himself, that nonetheless felt... dangerous. Like they'd trip over something and be disjointed in their response.
            "Nominis -- let's elect a course. If you ask because you care for the answer, well, then, hold for it, please.
            "The stone door in the hallway that Nala noted, the one down that partially-collapsed hall," Dal nodded, "strikes my interest, if only because of word of carvings upon it. Craftsmen don't do that for just closets. Mostly. Can we take a further look at it?" That would mean disregarding the other door out of the tower foyer, here; the wooden door with no carvings that the dead goblin may have been pointing towards, purposefully or haphazardly.
            "I care for the answer, I just went to check there aren't surprises. I wouldn't open the door. I just don't care for the noise and light you are making." Umbral weaver answers emerging from the darkened doorway
            Dal couldn’t think of a valid retort, for he was indeed making both noise and light. He couldn’t give serious consideration to dousing his staff’s torchlight, but maybe the point about speaking less and moving about with a bit more mind for what echoed down here… maybe that was valid. He didn’t vocalize an apology, which he presumed would only compound the complication.
            Orklar snorted in good humor. Fleshing out the intricacies of such a group was always such work. The dancing and the prancing and the niceties were always a show. Orc culture had that going for it at least, a simple structure and murderous brevity within the ranks.
            “Go, have your look,” Orklar said with a wave of one meaty hand toward the stone door and then tossing a nod toward Vol. “The archer and I will keep the peace here in the meantime.”
            The big half-Orc then set about scooping up the swords of the fallen with a deft working of his gnarled quarterstaff. Eyeballing each for a few seconds, he set them one by one against the wall near the main door for collection on their way out…presuming they weren’t running for their lives.
            Nala nodded to Dalian. “I will go with you,” she said, “to look at those carvings.” If he needed light, she could produce some dancing lights, or light a torch. She stuck to the wall, edging along to the door. Pit traps were usually in the middle of corridors, so staying near the wall would be safer.
            “Thanks, Nala,” Dal acknowledged with a brief, appreciative smile.
            The relief on the stone door took the form of stylistically carved dragons in flight over a rearing dragon, with a keyhole in the rearing dragon's open mouth. The door didn't move at their touch, though in the moving light of Dalian's staff, the dragons seemed to, soaring on the faintly dank air of their stony prison.
            Nala peered at the door, her large eyes tracing the flights of dragons. She peered into the keyhole but didn’t touch it. “Locked,” she called back to the others. “There’s a keyhole though. Anyone find a key on any of those gobbies?” she asked.
            “Not on the outside,” Orklar called back to Nala. The meaty half-Orc chuckled a bit as he kept circling the chamber, humming idly. He didn’t think any of these newcomers were committed enough to search inside the goblins, but there was always a chance. T’was some good eating among those delicate organs, but such was not his call to make. Either way, it was no skin off of his teeth. There was plenty enough food and drink for now.
            Which brought Orklar up short for a moment. He stopped and unlatched the flask from his hip, raising it to his lips for a slurp. Casting a sidelong glance at Vol, he offered a salacious smile toward the elf before sheathing the flask and carrying on with his humming ruminations.
            “I guess that’s a ‘no’,” Dal concluded. “I think we should go this way.” His inflection made it both a suggestion and a question, a call for objections or alternate courses of action.
            " I didn't think you, specifically, Dalian. But as a group, only I can see without light. Maybe Orklar too. And whatever we encounter here will certainly know we're coming. But maybe we can know something is there if scouting is dark and silent. " Nominis answers the scholar
            Dal paused, before asking, “I’m, uh, presuming someone can circumvent the mechanical lock?” As if not, the door would have to wait until they searched a bit more, maybe found a key for it elsewhere in the tower, down another route. But Dal was fairly confident that eventually this would be the route to take. He couldn’t quite explain why.
            "We could maybe break the lock. But there are other avenues to explore. Maybe we'll find the key. At least there are no undead. Lets explore other doors first." Nominis said.
            Mechanical lock is easy,” Nala said. She pulled out her greataxe and spit on her tiny hands and gripped the handle firmly. But that idea was nixed by Nominis. Too bad. “So where to the next door?” she asked.
            Orklar hobble-clopped around the room. Foot, foot, crutch. Foot, foot crutch. As he worked his way widdershins about the chamber, he repositioned the three goblins on the floor. These he laid out in respectful rest, one at roughly each of the compass points, south, east, and west.
            Then the big half-Orc walked over to the pitiful creature impaled to the wall. With a hefty grunt, he snatched the spear free, allowing the fourth goblin to crumple to the ground. As the goblin fell away from the wall, deep-set and impressive runes were revealed where it had been pinned.
            Then he dragged the corpse over toward the others, laying it out at the northern compass point.
            He was idly holding the impaling spear as he assessed his handiwork. All four goblins rested comfortably, heads almost touching at the center of the room. A grisly mural, but Orklar grunted his approval and moved off toward the remaining door.
            From the idle chatter, he suspected they’d be passing through it shortly.
            "The other door," Dal concluded. He started back to the chamber they'd first entered the tower via, and came up short at seeing the now-orthogonally-arrayed goblin corpses. From Orklar's nonchalance, Dal presumed it had been his doing, so he entered the room, though more than one curious glance flickered between the goblin bodies and Orklar, wondering if this was some ritual or rite, or just a morbid artistic flair of the half-orc's. In addition, the runes that had been a mystery to Orklar were recognizable as Draconic runes to Dalian. 'Tiamat,' they spelled.
            "Hey! How'd you think to look behind the body?" Dal asked Orklar, impressed. He pointed at the runes for everyone's benefit, but kept his voice modest, "That reads 'Tiamat,' in Draconic."
            “Dumb luck,” Orklar shrugged. “Wasn’t what was behind the body that interested me. And Tiamat?! That interests me even less.” The disgruntled half-Orc’s tone was clear that he had little wish to cross paths with any dragon, let alone a multi-headed dragon god.
            Practicing succincticity, Dal explained in what he hoped was a moderately quiet voice, "Carved dragons. Locked. How about that one?" He motioned at the remaining door with the light from his staff.
            “Untouched,” replied Orklar, leaning up against the wall and idly on his crutch-staff. “Wouldn’t want to shed any light there when our shadowy vanguard has voiced preferences otherwise.”
            The half-Orc’s amiable snort and smile rang true, but the dance of party politics was clearly underway. He might not be as nimble as most, but he could still shuffle his hooves when he needed to.
            Orklar waited for the group to proceed in the agreed upon order before he fell into step at the rear. As he prepared to leave the room, he tossed a copper coin into the star-shaped space formed by the goblin skulls and whispered a prayer to the dead gods for guidance.
            As he had expected, no gods, living or dead, answered his prayer... the bastards.

            As they trooped past the other door, which was not locked, they found themselves in a long, dusty hallway. Ahead and to their right were two wooden doors, while to their left was another stone door, this one relief-carved with a dragon-like fish swimming through a detailed undersea wonderland.
            "Definite theme, here," Dal commented aloud; quietly; at seeing the dragon-like fish carved upon the stone door to the left.
            Vol hung back, directing his dancing lights to illuminate the way with a thought as he kept watch over the others with his sharp archer's eyes.
            Sighing again and motioning his companions back, shadows erupt from Nominis and four spheres, quite similar to Vols appear. But instead of providing light, these spheres drink it hungrily.
            "Watch for anything amiss." Nominis goes forward, blending into the dance of shadows eight spheres provide. He pulls his shadows close to him, but keeps one far forward so it darkens the line of sight toward them.
            Dal, still holding his lit staff, smirked. "Man and wife, twenty year wed; logs for the fire, tender strife. Him always too hot; she always too cold; the cabin's comfort eludes as years grow old."
            “Many don’t get that old in this line of work,” Orklar said, but then chuckled. “But point taken. We’ll likely watch this dance of light and dark for a long time.”
            "Either of those doors bear a lock?" Dal asked Nominis, at the point barely ahead of the group, inquiring of the wooden door to their right in the midst of the hallway, and the stone door with the dragon-fish carvings opposite it on their left.
            Nothing untoward happened to Nominis as he stalked down the corridor. Returning to the doors in the middle, he found the stone one locked, as the other had been. The other creaked open at his touch.
            Beyond lay a small, ruined chamber, empty of all but a litter of rocky debris. The dust that lay thick upon everything suggested that it had remained undisturbed for years.
            “Locked for us hopefully means locked for them too,” Orklar said. “Easier to find those we seek.”
            The lumbering half-Orc didn’t fancy staring at the backs of heads that often. His vision swept behind him as much as to the fore, still watching for the undead hordes which awaited.
            "Good point," he agreed regarding the lock, and the dust on the floor discounted this room, too. "They didn't go in there," he concluded. To Nominis, Dal asked, "Guess we keep going down the hall?"
            Dal was finding he had to keep reminding himself they were here to recover the lost adventurers, not necessarily explore this place. His mind was jumping to the possibilities and story of the venue, the missing a footnote.
            Nala peered around Nominis into the new, untouched room. “That is a lot of dust,” she noted, giving a tiny sneeze. “Locked doors and untouched rooms. Where are these goblins coming from?" Moving past Nominis, Nala moved up to where the hallway narrowed, pressing against the wall to peer beyond into the darkness with her darkvision.
            “Goblins are like rats, Nala,” Orklar said quietly as he trundled along. “They don’t come from anywhere. They just are.”
            He stopped and ran his eyeball over the stone door, taking in its draconic nuances. Then he turned his gaze to the dusty side chamber, leaning in and roving his sight over that room just for the sake of thoroughness. He grunted his displeasure and resumed his vigilant position at the rear guard.
            Something was amiss. It didn’t sit well with the big half-Orc. They should have encountered trouble by now.
            Shadowy bard continues further down the hall not bothering with the dusty room.
            The far door creaked open to reveal a large, crumbling, irregularly shaped chamber to the two in front, their eyes only somewhat hindered by Nominis' magical darkness thickening the shadows before them. A large pit in the chamber's center showed evidence of a recent bonfire, piled with ashes and charred bits of wood; there was even a bit of residual heat in the room, reminiscent of the sunshine far above. An empty metal cage in the center of the wall to their left was wrenched apart, showing a gaping hole. Before it, there was a wooden bench draped with cloth, upon which several small objects lay.
            There was a bedroll near the bench, from which the heart-rending sound of whimpering could be heard.
            Mindful to not crowd, Dal advanced up to the door they'd previously opened, which had led to the unused room to the north. He steps partially into the doorway, mindfully using it for both some cover from the new, larger room to the west, and to keep the hallway reasonably clear to permit others to retreat or advance as they may need. Any light that may give them away had already been spilled; he kept his staff lit, providing at least some supplemental light in the hallway about him.
            “Someone’s in there,” Nala whispered back to the others. “Step back a bit.” Stepping through the door, the little gnome walked carefully over to the figure. “Oy, mate,” she said quietly to the figure, nudging it with her greataxe. Then she took a step back carefully.
            The whimpering stopped, replaced by confused snorting, as of someone waking up. The little bundle in the bedroll - no larger than Nala - flailed a little, then finally freed its blanket from its horns, revealing a dark-scaled kobold.
            It gawped at Nala in astonishment for several seconds. Then it squeaked with fright and began flailing again, this time to escape its bedroll completely.
            This close, Nala could see that the items on the little bench were carved dragon figurines, and, for some reason, several pots and a paintbrush.
            "Great! Crying kobold. Put it out of its misery and lets move on." Umbral weaver looks over the scene and moves on to the door
            Orklar’s one eyebrow shot up and then just as quickly furrowed at the shadowling’s proclamation. The half-Orc shuffled his bulk forward a bit, just for the sake of being heard.
            “Now, now,” he called forth. “Easy now, no need to swell the ranks of the dead just for convenience. Their armies are large enough. Guidance may be had here, or information gathered.”
            Orklar looked around at the remainder of the group for assistance, “Does anyone speak the dragon’s tongue?” A prayer walked to his lips with ease as he waited for a response.
            "Yes," Dal admitted hesitantly. "Kind of." It was an academic knowledge; something he was able to read, but rarely had he attempted to write in it, much less converse aloud in it. Having caught that a kobold was making the racket, but not yet in line of sight of it, Dal's imagination jumped to conclusions of some six-foot-tall horned aggressor wielding a jagged sword in front of a red-glared menacing snarl. "You really want to try to /talk/ to it?" he had to ask. Speaking distance inferred almost-striking distance.
            Dal moved forward to the threshold, without entering the room; wizard's eyes and illuminated staff leaned out from behind the protection of stone.
            When Nominis crossed the room to look down the hall on the far side, he saw that it was quite long, lined with doors and other passages.
            As Dal's light washed over the room, they realized that the chamber was decorated in crudely executed symbols and glyphs scribed in bright green dye. Dal recognized them as a rough version of Draconic, spelling out, "Here There Be Dragons."
            Then his attention was taken by the little creature escaping from its bedroll - mostly. The kobold pelted toward the hallway that Nominis had approached, the blanket flapping from its horns like a cape, then veered away as it realized it couldn't get through without going through him. Instead, it ran toward the door to the right, circling the firepit and giving Nala a wide berth.
            "Oh," Dal gasped as realization dawned; the kobold was half his height, unarmed, and apparently intent on fleeing. Dal surmised the party outmatched it, and he drew some confidence from that. From all he could tell, this kobold was supposed to be posted as a guard, or it was resting in a convenient place, and was certainly surprised by the party's arrival. Whether it was now just trying to get away or get someone to report the party's presence, he couldn't tell.
            Trying to sound both commanding and powerful, Dal intoned in his most-archmagi voice, "HALT, and you live; two more steps, and you die!" Dal backed his threat up with a quick cantrip to slow the kobold's wit and more easily permit it to be surrounded...
            In mid-step, the kobold appeared to forget where it was going, and why; it that moment's hesitation, the dragging blanket caught one of its feet, and it stumbled, blinking its small eyes in confusion.
            "Grab it! I think I only dazed it for a moment!" Dal said.
            Orklar raised an eyebrow at Dalian’s choice of diplomatic approach. A harsh order followed by a magical slap? Maybe there was some Orc blood in the man’s history after all.
            “Umm, I don’t really do quick,” he said, lumbering forward. Filing into the room with the others, he drew up at the doorway, using his bulk to ensure that the kobold wouldn’t escape past him through this open door.
            “Maybe try to calm him down?” he asked, then added in the common tongue, “Easy there, little dog. We don’t mean any harm outright.”
            “Oy!” Nala exclaimed as the kobold darted up, running around frantically, trailing its blanket, trying to escape, until Dalian hit it with some magic and it stumbled and fell on it’s face, drooling.
            “Hold up, mate,” Nala said, walking over and hauling the kobold up by whatever passed for a collar or something. “We ain’t gonna hurt you if you cooperate, alright, lad?” She put her greataxe away. “Here, you hungry?” She didn’t know if he spoke Common, but she knew everyone spoke food, so she dug out a pouch of rations and offered him a piece of jerky.
            The kobold, the front of its jerkin clenched in Nala's fist, curled up and cowered with its arms up to protect its head once it had shaken off the effects of Dalian's magic. When Nala offered it her jerky, it sniffed, then opened one eye, which darted between the morsel and the gnome.
            Then it opened its other eye, lowering its arms slightly, though they were still prepared to come up to protect its head again. It looked at Nala in confusion. <"Kill me do not!"> it wheezed in the scaly tongue, a noise which came out as a sibilant yapping with a strange dialect.
            <"We have no cause to kill you."> Dal replied to the kobold in Nala's custody as he stepped close enough; but off to the side; to help translate. <"You're welcome to take the food she's offering you. No tricks. We have questions. You will answer?">
            Dal asked of the party, "Presuming he's cooperative, what's most important that you want me to ask him?" Dal's prepared to field questions and relay the answers as best he can, between his vocabulary and syntax, and the kobold's.
            <"Answer I will,"> it agreed, nodding rapidly. It eyed Nala, but didn't reach for the jerky. Instead, it uncurled and cautiously lowered its arms, keeping them clear of its body, with hands raised in a universal gesture of harmlessness toward the gnome holding it up. The blanket, still caught on its horns, gave it a somewhat comical appearance.
            As the party busies itself with the kobold, Nominis spends some time examining the room. Even detecting magic around the cage. As the negotiations draw long, he detects through whole room, circling it.once with magic attuned vision before starting his study again.
            "Ask it what was in this cage." Nominis speaks in common once the kobold calmed enough to speak "They kept something here and it escaped. May be dangerous for us too."
            Orklar kept his distance from the immediate scene, knowing his bulk wouldn’t afford the kobold any comfort. He maintained his vigil on the path behind him, still unsure if this one creature wasn’t bait for a larger trap.
            “Why is he here, and where are the rest of his kind?” Orklar prompted Dalian. “There have to be others…”
            The tall archer kept his distance, too, but less to keep from intimidating the creature and more to have an open field in case it came time to shoot. He nodded at Orklar. "There's never just one kobold."
            Dal apparently spoke lizard, so Nala released the kobold and smoothed out his jerkin, sticking the jerky into a pocket. She disentangled the blanket, as well, and moved to stand behind him so he couldn’t run off again as the others threw questions at Dal and he relayed them to the kobold.
            Dal did his best to compile the questions into a series with a progression, asking his first round of questions one by one, waiting between each for the kobold's answers.
            <"Are others of your kind; other kobolds; nearby?">
            <"Yes! Yes! Lots!"> the kobold piped up readily, turning to keep Nala and Nominis in sight along with Dalian and the others behind him.
            <"Why were you here in this room, alone? Did you have a task or reason to be here?">
            The kobold hunched its shoulders, muttering something inaudible. It looked quite miserable.
            <"Other than kobolds and goblins, what other creatures dwell here?">
            The kobold shrugged. <"Know I don't, but know our leader does. Take you to meet our leader, Yusdrayl, if nice you be. Safe passage I grant you, if promise not to hurt me you do.">
            <"What or who had been kept in this cage?">
            The kobold looked up, eyes blazing. <"The clan's dragon... lost our dragon we have! Stole our dragon Calcryx, the wretched goblins did!"> It cocked its head at Dalian, birdlike. <"If promise to rescue dragon you do, maybe leader nice will be to you. Answer your questions.">
            <"We're looking for an adventuring party that came through here, recently, before us. Did you see them or hear of them?">
            The kobold shrugged. <"Yusdrayl will know. Ask Yusdrayl you do.">
            Remembering the little shrine Nala went over and gathered up the fine jade statues and candles, wrapping them up securely in the blanket and bringing it back to the kobold. The kobold accepted the bundle warily, looking from it to her, to Dalian, to the others, who were clearly prepared for trouble.
            The area darkens noticeably as the shadow weaver focuses all his power in small area. Those who turn notice him, no longer in the middle of the room, but in a shadowy corner, hidden behind the remains of some furniture, hissing like that of an angry cat coming from him before he recovers himself. His shield of some horned and sharp-toothed beast, his armor of collected great scales suddenly make much more sense.
            "A dragon!? They had a dragon! and it runs rampant here?! Even such small beast like the one that could be put in this cage is dangerous. And it definitely isn't a beast you hold in a cage! It's an intelligent creature that will want revenge for its treatment. Ask the kobold what color it was? How long since it was taken? We need to find the party and move out! I got lucky once. I don't intend to fight no more dragons in my new life!"
            Nominis is visibly shaken, keeps his distance and is fully ready for combat, tense as if the dragon is in this room. The behaviour totally out of proportion to the apparent size of the beast.
            “Steady now,” Orklar cautioned. “We don’t want to scare off our new friend here. Just yet anyway.”
            However, far from cowering at Nominis' display of alarm, the kobold appeared to take heart from it. It nodded to itself, standing a bit more straight and smoothing out its green jerkin.
            Shadow bard collects himself and releases control of the shadows around him. "You're right ofcourse. It's just that my first memories are bound to dragons. And not in a good way. I'll tell you about it once we have time. All that I know and have came from it...except for some kind of tattoo of a lion. I'd almost say I'm of Nala's tribe..." he trails off, seeming wistful for the moment before shaking his head. "No use dredging out the past right now. Let's see what the lizards have to say. And we may need to talk among ourselves before we do with their leader. We should agree on our course and not discuss it there in front of potentially dangerous leader."
            Motioning toward the kobold. "Let's pack that scale bag and talk about what we can and what we're willing to do for that safe passage."
            “How do you steal a dragon?” Nala asked when Dalian translated. She glanced at Nominis as he seemed to freak out a bit over the notion of a dragon -- and a small one, if the size of the cage was any indication.
            Orklar scanned the room again with a fresh eye, a dragon having come into the mix. Scratching idly at his head, he pondered the best path ahead.
            “Might be trouble, might not, if these buggers could cage it,” he said with a shrug. “But either way, it’s good to know one is on the loose…if this fella can be believed.
            “I don’t know, playing one side off on the other would definitely be tricky,” he added. “But it would save us some time, for sure, throwing us right in the mix. Plus, I tend to like the phrase ‘safe passage’.
            “What do you lot think?”
            Dal pondered Nominis' reaction, Nala's nod to the kobold's sentience and concerns, and Orklar's contemplation. He reached a conclusion, and nodded.
            < "We accept safe passage. If Yusdrayl is less than two hours' walk from here, yes, let's speak with Yusdrayl.">
            < "Before we travel, though, I need to know -- what color is Calcryx, how long did the tribe have Calcryx as its dragon, and /why/ did the tribe want to keep a dragon?">
            At Dalian's last question, the kobold gave him an odd look, and nodded at Nominis. <"Why? Calcryx our dragon is! Fear us, our enemies do! Did,"> it corrected itself, drooping a little again, but it quickly shook it off. Gesturing for the party to follow it, the kobold started for the long hall Nominis had looked down, the bundle from the low bench slung over its shoulder. <"Tell you all you need to know, Yusdrayl will.">
            The others seemed to think helping the kobold out for safe passage was a good deal, so Nala shrugged and shouldered her axe and followed. She overheard Nominis and frowned. “What was that about being of my tribe?” she asked him.

            As the kobold scuttled down the passage ahead of them, the party saw what Nominis had seen before - a long, wide corridor lined with doors. The closest of them was barred with an iron rod from the outside, but they didn't pass it - instead, their guide turned to the right, leading them down another passage to a grand hall, also lined with doors. At least, it had been grand once; deterioration and decay thrived here. However, a double row of relief-carved marble columns marched the length of the hall that they could see, though the end of it faded into darkness even for those to whom the dark held no secrets. The worn carvings depicted entwining dragons, a display of fine, if very old, craftsmanship.
            Orklar’s limp became more pronounced as they moved deeper into the citadel. The big half-Orc knew he was physically imposing, and he mitigated his size by remaining quiet and contained. The emphasis on his limp was an addition to the ploy, suggesting that he was older and more broken, less of a threat than envisioned.
            As soon as they entered, three more kobolds came running, these wearing red jerkins and carrying spears. The party's kobold waved its arms and yapped at them, and in the following conversation, Dalian determined several things: "their" kobold was named Meepak, he was a priest - and his status had dropped sharply when the tribe's dragon was stolen.
            He spoke deferentially to the three red-clad kobolds - Tekkek, Sharm and Pukkik, apparently an honor guard - telling them that the party might rescue their dragon, and while they didn't lower their spears, they stood back and didn't attack. Sharm insisted on speaking to the group, once Dalian had been pointed out as someone who spoke the dragon tongue.
            <"Come to meet she who sits on the Dragon Throne, you have?"> she yipped. <"Why worthy you are?"> She pointed at the nearest of them, Nominis, with her speartip. <"Upfolk these are, too. Come to take our Citadel, maybe they have.">
            Nala gave a little scoff at the lead kobold’s words when they were translated. “Wot would I do with a bloody citadel?” she asked. “We don’t intend to trouble you, and are just looking for the lost delvers. So any help you can offer will be appreciated, and of course we will be willing to help you out in exchange.”
            < "Believe me you might not, but say it I do -- your Citadel is yours, and not ours to take,"> Dalian spoke simply, responding foremost to the way Sharm's wary speartip levelled at Nominis. His free hand not holding his quarterstaff raised in a plain, calming gesture that didn't cross the line into supplication. As much as it was a calming gesture, it was one of readiness; spells danced behind Dal's eyes, prepared to be cast forward if necessity demanded.
            < "Spirit and deeds measure worth, not words. Come to rescue our lost upfolk, we have; if restoring your dragon is needed, ask to speak to Leader Yusdrayl we do. If it is not, then with no bloodshed, we leave. Choose.">
            "Point that somewhere else, kobold." Nominis touches speartip and small crack can be heard as he channel minor magic into the item
            Orklar lagged behind only a bit, but it was enough that the dialogue had begun before his presence could overly influence it. He didn’t understand what was being said, but a great deal could be conveyed with tone. Intercession, a chance for redemption, and a challenge.
            Orklar wondered if the bones had foreseen true what would happen in these long forgotten halls, or if Yusdrayl would be the end of them all.
            Sharm's little orange-yellow eyes bulged when Nominis' magic sent a crack running down the haft of her spear. Then the kobolds erupted into high-pitched yipping, brandishing their spears at the party with considerably more hostility than before. Dalian understood that they were shouting for reinforcements.
            Meepak chirped with alarm and darted behind the nearest column, hiding from the imminent fight.
            Nala gripped her greataxe tighter as the kobolds chirped and scrambled in response to Nominis’ magic. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she warned them.
            Orklar sighed as the events degenerated. He withdrew a few steps and leaned his quarterstaff against the wall with practiced ease. Drawing his mace to hand, he whispered a keen prayer to the dead gods and waited to see who would draw first blood.
            "NO! HOLD!" Dalian yelled angrily, his voice carrying more emphatic authority than his young age or his recent joining of this band would normally merit. <"HOLD!"> Dal repeated in Draconic for the kobolds' benefit, his ire equally directed to them and their spear-brandishing. < "You do /not/ want to begin bloodshed, here!">
            Dal emphasized his consternation with a sharp crack of his quarterstaff's metal-capped base upon the stone floor. He released it to stand upon its own, still casting forth its torchlight, and spoke quick words of magic that brought a moment's shimmering about himself.
            Tekkek took his look of concentration as an invitation, and despite Dalian's shout for peace, the kobold poked him with his little spear. The wound wasn't bad, and Dalian completed his spell despite the sudden pain.
            Dal harbored a distinct but faint remaining hope that this wouldn't degenerate into a melee; prudence versus that hope mandated he not be so easy to kill by the kobolds' response. Dal took his waiting quarterstaff back to hand and adjusted to a defensive two-handed grip, angled across in front of him.
            Dalian cried out to try to calm things down. Nala moved to the balls of her feet, ready for trouble.
            Despite Dalian's hopes, the kobolds continued to menace the party with their spears, no longer simply bluster. Tekkek was the first to attack, poking his spear at Dalian in the hope of an easy target, and Nala stepped forward to meet him with her greataxe - but the slippery little devil darted aside with the speed of many a retreat. The speed of Nala's attack threw off his own, however, and Dalian had no trouble keeping the spearpoint from tasting his blood again.
            Sharm, predictably, stabbed at Nominis, but the shadowy man kept her at bay easily. Pukkik had no better luck; the bard had been through too much to let degenerate dragonlings kill him now.
            Vol apparently had no particular wish to find out if diplomacy was the answer when the kobolds had already begun to attack. He took a step back into the hall with Orklar and fired an arrow into Sharm's leg. Perhaps that was his idea of a warning shot; Sharm's angry barks became cries of pain instead. Still, the kobold seemed tougher than might be expected - she didn't flee... at least, not yet.
            The sounds of the fight echoed in the vast hall, and Meepak squeaked in terror, running away at top speed.
            Familiar tendrils of shadow stuff leak around Nominis as his features darken. "Stop this nonsense immediately! No use to your dragon if we kill you all. What chance do you have against those who stood against dragons and lived? ... " He motions with his klar hoping it will impress little ones rather than enrage them further.
            Long tendrils of shadow quest across the floor wrapping around heads, arms and weapons, pulling, squeezing and generally making nuissance of themselves. "We came in peace! That doesn't mean we're helpless lunch! Stop! Or die!"
            The kobolds ducked away from the klar warily, but were less able to avoid the shadows clutching at them. A new note of alarm entered their scratchy voices as the shadows clung to them. Regardless, they clearly didn't understand Nominis' words, because they kept yipping and poking their spears at the party.
            Orklar knew none of them spoke the language of dragons. None but Dalian, the one’s the kobold guards were now trying to kill. Frustration gave way to anger, and he felt his soft demeanor give way to the other side of his nature. At least Nominis had tried to cow them, to not end lives unnecessarily, but his words would not be understood. Nor would Orklar’s.
            So the hulking half-Orc simply stepped forward again, loomed with the mace wielding menace of his ancestors, and roared at the nearest kobold until spittle flew from his snarling mouth.
            Sharm didn't drop her spear and run away, but she definitely looked like she wanted to. Her tiny eyes were as wide as they could go as she stared at Orklar, shoulders hunched and snout wrinkled into a grimace of fear. Her cracked spear dipped and wavered as she tried to point it in his direction, Nominis forgotten for the moment.
            The pain of being stabbed by the speartip hadn't yet fully registered; Dal was now more angry than anything else, and held no doubt the kobold would've killed him without hesitation if only it had been able to land a firmer blow. The change in Dal's attitude registered in his features as a dramatic shift from diplomacy, exchange, and consternation to indignation and survival.
            He quickly ran through his inventory of spells, balancing effective potential versus the positions of his friends. His ire -- and the threat -- most came from Tekkek, and Dal anticipated it'd be the most-effective demonstration he could make to reiterate directly against Tekkek. Dal held his ground and put his strength into his quarterstaff -- hands with some light practice shifted to guide the staff over his shoulder and down across in a forceful extended strike at Tekkek. Dal used the finishing momentum of his swing to carry him back a step towards the doors, returning his quarterstaff to a warding position again.
            The wily kobold feinted at the last moment, then ducked away as Dalian's staff came cracking down. "Alarm! Alarm!" he continued to shriek in the dragon tongue, brandishing his spear a bit more confidently with only Nala to threaten him now.
            That was unwise.
            Nala gave a low growl of rage. “Stupid kobolds!” she shouted, swinging her greataxe at the kobold who had started this all by poking Dalian, slashing at Tekkek as she raged.
            She gashed Tekkek's arm, making him yelp loudly and scramble back from her. He had been edging toward a flanking position, but the strike changed his mind, and he darted for cover instead. His cautious return stab came nowhere near her.
            Sharm was far too preoccupied with Orklar to think about Nala, her timid attacks never making it past his shield, and Pukkik, the only one still unwounded, was no more proficient than the others at penetrating the defenses of the party.
            Vol tsk'ed at Orklar good-naturedly for stepping into his line of fire. He stepped forward as well, still behind the line of melee, and took aim at Pukkik, intending to even out the kobolds' injuries. However, the mix of bodies in the way and the press of close fighting was too much for even his eye, and his arrow went skittering into the dark.
            For those familiar with kobolds, it was downright amazing that they kept fighting at all after being wounded. Truly, these kobolds were made of sterner stuff than, say, Meepak.
            Which wasn't saying much, the cowardly nature of kobolds taken into account.
            "You probably already guessed," Dal advised the party in Common, "that they're not interested in diplomacy right now, and are calling for reinforcements."
            {"Call 'alarm' all you will; we came to help; you threatened us and stabbed me; remember that,"} Dal admonished the kobolds.
            <"Attack us first, you did!"> Sharm bellowed at the top of her lungs, though the volume was probably due more to terror than anger. At least, she never tore her gaze from Orklar.
            "Blood's been spilled on both sides; I've no will to kill them," Dal continued in Common. Noting Nala seemed a bit enthused for the fight, and may not give much of a response, Dal nonetheless posed before deciding how he would carry forward, "We should disengage and fall back to the prior hall; give them a chance to remember their wits. Call agreement, or nay."
            Seeing the hostilities continue and his assumptions of at least some kobolds speaking common and having some sense false, he slips next to the line of kobolds and screams. As before, the scream is amplified by his inner magic and ripples of vibrating air spread in front of him, shaking dust from the walls, moving or shattering pebbles on the floor, cracking weapons and tearing away scales and blood from kobold bodies. "They attacked first, they suffer for it! There will be reckoning for your blood, Dalian!"
            The kobolds' yips turned to yelps at the horrendous noise, and Sharm took the brunt of it. However, reinforcements suddenly poured out of one of the doors at the far end of the hall. The newcomers didn't wear the red jerkins and cloaks that the first three kobolds did, and they seemed a bit more cautious despite having spears as well, keeping back to hurl slingstones at the party rather than closing to aid their fellows. One of their stones actually bounced off Dalian's forehead, though only hard enough to smart a bit, rather than doing any real damage.
            Orklar shifted his position to stand next to Dalian, his bulk shielding the wounded man from one side at least. He assumed a defensive but readied posture. “Don’t think we’re salvaging this one,” he growled at his comrade.
            Nala grinned ferally at the sight of Tekkek’s blood. She didn’t seem to hear Dalian’s plea for a cease fire, lost in the battle lust as the little gnome was. She shifted to follow Tekkek around the pillar, swinging her axe gleefully. “Chop-chopping kobold’s!” she sang gleefully. “Gonna make some kobold-skin boots!”
            In her reckless abandon, Tekkek was able to evade her wild swings, slowly forced back by her raw enthusiasm.
            Nala’s press of the attack was answer enough for Dal; this wouldn’t end until the kobolds were all dead or incapacitated. He tried to reconcile that that may need not include the entire tribe, but they were likely irreconcilable adversaries at this point. Whatever information that they have had about the two missing adventures, the party would have to go on without.
            Dalian threw himself into the fight to win, summoning a missile of acid and sending it at the center kobold, who had the least shelter from the hall’s columns. He briefly considered retrieving his light crossbow from its scabbard on his backpack, but dismissed it; they were already all embroiled in a melee, and would likely need mobility and flexibility if reinforcements arrived quickly. Pulling his crossbow would occupy one of his hands, leaving only one other to carry his quarterstaff, and too few for effective improvisational spellcasting.
            Pukkik's scream of pain split the air as Dalian's attack melted through its clothes and scales, searing the kobold with agony. That was enough to break his will to battle; the red-clad kobold retreated toward the reinforcements.
            Without Pukkik by her side, Sharm's nerve failed, and she drew back as well, backing away with her spear still directed at Orklar. She too stopped when she reached the backup that had arrived, ordering them to press the attack.
            Only Tekkek stayed to fight on, and came dangerously near to scoring Nala's leg, but Nominis' shadows dragged the strength from his already weak limbs, and his spear only scraped her clothing.
            Vol targeted one of the slingers, since he had a clearer shot at them - and his arrow punched into the kobold's chest, leaving it sprawled on the ground. Nominis used the distraction to move forward and, standing directly in front of the kobold line, let loose another ear-pounding roar. The red-clad guards darted behind the columns, catching only a little of the bone-rattling attack, but the reinforcements weren't as quick, and yipped in pain, hands clamped over their earholes.
            They recovered quickly enough, adrenaline no doubt filling their blood, and the one in the back tried to distract Nominis with its sling while the one in front darted forward with its spear, but the attacking kobolds were still visibly shaken by the painful roar, and Nominis evaded the attack easily.
            Orklar lumbered forward, interposing his shield and mass between the hail of missiles coming from the kobolds and the already injured Dalian. To his comrades within sight, the meaty half-Orc spoke words in a guttural tongue that were laced with power, and he pointed his mace at the resilient kobold still holding their front line.
            “Run along little dragon,” Orklar said, but Tekkek heard and saw matters quite differently.
            When the prayer completed, the kobold saw a frosty rime cover the shadowy Orc-blooded thing looming nearby. Then the chilling image detached from its creator and shuffled toward the dragon-blooded vermin. Jaw unhinging with a gurgling undead desire, the specter descended on the living cretin, intent on consuming every morsel of its flesh.
            Tekkek gawped at the apparition, tiny yellow eyes bulging with fear, but before he could react to its menace, Nala stepped forward.
            Nala giggled madly. “Just you and me now!” she said in that sing-song voice. She swung her greataxe high and brought it down hard at Tekkek. Tekkek turned tail and fled so suddenly that Nala's axe threw sparks on the stone floor where he had been a moment before.
            < "Damn it, Sharm!"> Dal cried in frustration at hearing her order her fellows to press the attack. <"I can't stop my friends while you're slinging stones and brandishing spears at us! Drop your weapons and hold! Please!"> Dalian didn't translate his entreaty, hoping only that if the kobolds did so, it would break the mutual air of bloodlust and vengeance. Sharm's angry call that they'd started this had some merit; a tense situation lit off by a spark, harmless bravado though it may have been intended. To Sharm's mind, Dal's call to drop weapons must seem suicidal; they were defending their hold as best they could against an overwhelming invading force of adventurers. He harbored no doubts that were the party to stop fighting and surrender to the kobolds, they'd be beaten, stripped, and imprisoned or worse; it was not too much of a stretch to presume Sharm reasoned the same. <"I'm sorry, Sharm,"> Dal tore at the inequitable misunderstanding of it all. "I'm sorry."
            Dalian couldn't give the kobolds time to consider; the next slingstone might wound or kill one of the party. But he could try to minimize the harm while also further sapping their will. Again he threw magic forth, this time targeting the cluster of kobolds halfway down the hall, Sharm included.
            Every kobold of the bunch abruptly slumped to the ground, spears rattling as they fell. It was not death that had claimed them - quiet snoring revealed that Dalian's magic had simply put them all to sleep.
            Tekkek ran screaming from the phantom Orklar had conjured, somehow slipping past Nominis despite the man's shadow-tattoo reaching for the kobold. He darted down the hall and into a side passage at the far end.
            "I hear more clawed feet, down there," Vol told the others, indicating the far end of the long hall with his bow.
            "DO NOT KILL THEM!" Dal yelled, as emphatically as he could. "If there's any hope of salvaging this, it's taking at least Sharm and Pukkik back with us," Dal pointed out the two kobolds he named, "later returning their weapons, and letting them walk free. We're NOT here to make enemies of the kobolds, tense as the exchanges may be. The other kobolds, we let be, no further harm; let their friends find them so."
            Nominis pauses over fallen kobolds, looking over incredulously. "Are you crazy!? You're still bleeding from their attacks. We kill them all and negotiate with Meepak, they need to know the price of attacking us. Otherwise, who's to say they won't attack when we're weakened by other fights? We came in good faith and they came up with spears. You said we should come and make allies. Didn't work. Let's find another way. Such as Orklars. Put fear in them. So much fear they will never even look at humans and gnomes and orcs as prey again."
            He binds and gags the kobolds despite his protests. Maybe he doesn't have a taste for killing helpless opponents? "There is no salvaging this. Sooner you accept it, sooner we can resume our search."
            "Don't conclude that wood shavings always spontaneously combust, if your reasoning is from witnessing it burst into flame only /after/ you struck a spark into it," Dal retorted.
            “Fear and death are only two of the many tools of diplomacy,” Orklar said. “A mercy now may come back as a bane later, but it may also return as a boon. None have died yet. Let’s not cross that line, if we don’t have to.”
            Orklar turned to give Dalian a look, assessing his physical state. “Well managed,” he said more quietly with regards to the reinforcements. “But beware, these creatures do not value each others’ lives as the warm-blooded do. They aren’t much to bargain with.”
            Satisfied the human would live for now, Orklar turned back toward the next wave of reinforcements likely inbound.
            "I need to be able to sleep at night," Dal gave as as much answer as he could, in the circumstances. It was acknowledgment of Orklar's warning and advice, and admission that Dal had his own line that Dal himself was dancing upon, but that line had not yet been crossed, not with finality. Perhaps it was because he had the insight of yelled, succinct words exchanged with Sharm during the fight. Or perhaps it was colored with the heavy knowledge that, had the proceeded to mow through the kobolds, and if the party survived doing so, it's an episode that would've knotted Dal's gut for years to come, and certainly not one he would be able to abide proudly recounting over meals or ale. That, more than anything, drove him at this moment.
            "Sharm and Pukkik aren't hostages. We need to grab them. Gently, but quickly," Dal asked of Orklar, whether Nominis had opted to begin his binding with those two particular kobolds or not. "We need to retreat back to the first room; nothing I can say and nothing we can do will matter if it must be said over melee's chaos. I'm betting on the reinforcements pausing a few precious seconds to assess their other sleeping comrades." Dal knew that was the weakest part of his rapidly-developed strategy. Nominis and Orklar had both expressed doubt over its merits; the next few moments until the reinforcements arrived would wholly tip one way, or the other.

            As Nominis moved forward to tie up the kobolds, a glance toward the end of the hall revealed what his vision had not been able to pierce the darkness of before. A gathering of kobolds with spears stood ready, half their attention on him as he came into their view as well, half on some commotion behind them. These wore red as well, armor and capes of a finer cut than the three original guards, and they stood before an altar, and what appeared to be a throne made from fallen bits of masonry stacked high. A quick glance around also showed him that the nearest door to his left was barred, as the one in the corridor had been.
            No sooner had Nominis used Nala's rope to tie their primary snoozing targets, Sharm and Pukkik, when the kobolds surged forward, and behind them strode a red-robed kobold with white scales. <"Hold! Stop them here, you will!"> it yipped in the tongue of dragons, its voice strong. Two slipped down the side passage, leaving four armored kobolds behind. Only just visible at the edge of vision to Orklar, while Nominis could see them clearly, the others only heard the sound of their approach, and their orders.
            <"Ex-Keeper of Dragons! To leave you will tell them, before destroyed they all will be!"> the white kobold barked.
            Nominis saw Meepak creep down from behind the altar and, casting a fearful glance at the white kobold's feet, slink slowly forward toward the party. Not understanding the words, he binds another one, but raises his voice in Common "Kobold ruler, we came to help, not to fight. These are not dead. Stop your four warriors and recall those two you sent on the side."
            He gives his companions the details even as he trusts Dalian in his foolish diplomacy. "Dalian, it is now or never. The ruler is up front. Speak quickly."
            Unable to see down the corridor, but illuminated by the torchlight from his staff, Dal stepped forward to do what he could; he hadn't anticipated that the other kobolds would be so near. The pall of combat still hung heavy on the air.
            In a voice that filled the hall over the potential chaos, Dal spoke clearly, <"I stopped the fighting; your fellows are magically asleep. At least one needs aid." His voice then rose like a gathering storm, the distinctive smell of ozone radiating from him, "We came to hear about restoring your dragon, and were met with spears!" Dal slammed the capped butt of his quarterstaff down upon the stone indignantly, the metal ringing as sharply as a hammer to anvil, and with a bass thud reverberating like a small thunderclap for several moments afterward. He gathered himself and checked his anger, reducing his voice to carry clearly, unequivocally, "If you would have our help, carry your spears if you must, but do /not/ threaten us with them, and do /not/ level them at us. I speak to you, in your tongue, yet you see as even as we subdued your forward guards with the least harm we could, if we had intended we could have killed them, instead.">
            < "My friends do not speak your language, but they see your spears; they pause only these moments, watching to see you shift your weapons to peace, as we have done ours. If but one weapon were to remain leveled at any of us, we -- you and I -- we will not be able to salvage this situation to mutual gain. Can you warily greet us now as potential allies? For it is my first blood upon one of their spearpoints," Dal gestured to the sleeping kobolds with a flaming sweep of his staff, the flames shifting to a lustrous red to match his few remaining whispered words that carried as clearly as all else he had spoken, but with a weight of sadness and regret and promise within them, "and thus even my patience is very sorely tested.">
            "Mind their weapons," Dal advised the party, his voice his own again and unembellished. "If the leader does not order the spears to return to rest, then the situation is lost, and I will resume the fight without hesitation." Dal sighed, recognizing he was placing recently-found friends in harm's way. "Thank you," he added humbly, to the party, while he could, "for letting me try." The licking flames from Dal's staff returned to their more-typical torchlight swirl of colors.
            “I can help heal the wounded or mend broken weapons”. Orklar said.
            <"Hold!"> The white kobold, still hidden in darkness from most of the party, raised a warning hand, and glanced at Meepak. <"Truth you spoke, Ex-Keeper of Dragons? Here to rescue our dragon, they are?">
            Meepak uncurled from his frightened stance to stand proudly, if warily, before all the other kobolds, a little splash of blue and green before the ranks of red. <"Great Yusdrayl, as said I have, it is. Bring them here otherwise I would not."> The line of red-armored kobolds glanced at each other, murmuring in tiny yaps and growls.
            Yusdrayl peered at the party. <"Set down our weapons we will not. Dangerous, upfolk are. Dangerous enough to aid us, maybe you are. Speak, then. Who are you? Why our dragon you will aid? Rewards, you seek? Kobold slaves?"> She gestured at Nominis, who was still busy tying up sleeping kobolds.
            Orklar saw something small dart past the small passage to his left, heading back the way they had come - probably a kobold. Orklar lowered his weapon and withdrew slightly, both in an effort to reduce hostilities and to prepare for a possible flanking by the opportunistic kobolds. He motioned to Vol and Nala to remain where they were for now.
            “Flankers,” he said quietly to them as he walked back into the corridor from which they had emerged. There he waited, leaning up against the north wall. If any of the advancing creatures poked a head around the corner to look, Orklar simply smiled and waggled a finger at them in a that-really-wouldn’t-be-wise fashion.
            Dal's staff shifted to a calmer, whiter hue; though it's brightness did not increase, it rendered colors and sight slightly truer. He took a few moments to translate the crux of what he had said, and what Yusdrayl and Meepak had responded, for the benefit of his friends. If he had been able to hear Orklar's caution -- not meant to carry, certainly -- or catch note of the warning, he gave no indication.
            < "Sharm, and Tekkik, and Pukkik, and your forward sentries,"> Dal began, responding to Yusdrayl's expressed concern over their binding, <"were, in their eagerness to defend your hold, the ones who threatened us, and stabbed at me. Diligent, perhaps, but also excitable, as were we, I concede. Binding them until you could speak with them, calm the situation, seemed wise. Even now, we both know our words are tense, and cautious; once they are not, untying them is a small thing, to which we will not object.">
            Dal continued with a sense of urgency, for Yusdrayl's command to 'hold' was not the same as insisting her tribe stop pointing spears at the party. <"Hold your weapons, but ensure all put them at rest, I ask. As tense as you are, so are we; help me put my friends at ease. One more misunderstanding as the last, and the only victor here will be Death."> Dal's tone clearly indicated that was not something he wished to have happen in any circumstance, and there was an anxiety about the way that he said it that made clear moments were precious, and not to be wasted on this point.
            < "Reward, yes, once we understand what you will ask. But firstly, information, and knowledge of this place, which costs you nothing and gains all peace. We have come to find four upfolk who entered this citadel, and have not returned. Their family bids us to bring them home."> Dal wasn't sure how to respond to Yusdrayl's query of who the party was; they carried no moniker he was aware of, and seemed more just a fortuitous assembly of like-minded individuals, mostly. But there was unity in having a tribe, and an identity, that might benefit this exchange and the kobolds frame of reference. Names could always be changed later. <"My name is Dal. We are Hucrele's Motley.">
            Seeing the kobold in charge pointing at him, Nominis stops for the moment listening to the translation. He shrugs, finishes the job and moves back toward the group, motioning to kobolds to take over.
            Orklar's quick check of the great corridor revealed Tekkek fleeing back the way the party had come from. At the far end, kobolds were warily peeking around the corner, but showed no inclination to advance.
            Yusdrayl paused for a moment, cocking her head at the party. Both Dalian and Nala had the impression that she was momentarily nonplussed. But she recovered quickly enough to pronounce, <"Yes, death only there is for those against us who stand."> Whether she believed this grand claim or not, the kobolds on the front line appeared encouraged.
            <"Looking for the upfolk, you came?"> Yusdrayl shrugged, a strangely human gesture. <"The goblins they fought. Never returned."> She rapped her staff on the stone floor, and while the clack was not as impressive as Dal's had been, the kobolds all stood to attention. <"Peace there will be between us, should you our dragon go to rescue."> The red-armored kobolds lowered their spears a bit uncertainly.
            Nala slumped wearily against the wall, catching her breath, now that she wasn’t seeing red. More kobolds so close? She thought she would have time to catch her breath. Wearily she lifted her greataxe, readying herself for more fighting. But this time Dalian’s words seemed to work. The kobolds seemed to be listening. When Orklar signaled her to maintain position, she did, watching the kobolds warily.
            Dal didn't deign to correct Yusdrayl's interpretation of his figure of speech, though he did resolve to speak more simply and not get ahead of himself or the exchange. If it raised her esteem in the eyes of her tribe to say it as she did, no harm done; she wasn't rallying the troops to battle.
            < "Peace is now between us,"> Dal affirmed, restating her words without the condition, diplomatically making clear the tenuous peace would not survive such ultimatums. <"We wish to listen -- to hear of your dragon, of the goblins, of what you saw of the upfolk and their path. Meepak shared nothing, without your permission."> Couldn't hurt to try to recover Meepak's standing a bit more with his kobold peers, maybe gain something of an actual ally. Yusdrayl hadn't inquired about the party's individual names, so Dal didn't volunteer them. It may not have crossed the kobolds' minds that individual names of the upfolk mattered.
            "Peace, but tenuous," Dal added for the party's benefit. "I, uh, named our 'tribe' Hucrele's Motley. They might be able to pronounce that, maybe not. They saw the people we're probably looking for; she says they fought goblins, but never returned. They're going to tell us about their dragon; I'll relay what else." Dal nodded to Nominis, "I'll ask what color it was, if they don't volunteer it." He considered the accoutrements of the tribe. "I suspect red."
            As the kobolds woke from Dal's sleeping spell, more kobolds continued to pop out of the woodwork (or, more accurately, stonework). Alarmed at first, they quickly realized that the party was in palaver with Yusdrayl, and stood back against the walls (dragging the fallen kobold away), spears kept in hand as they eyed the party suspiciously. Pukkik in particular gazed at Dal hatefully from his half-melted face.
            "Saying you are that knowledge you wish your reward to be?" Yusdrayl asked, still cloaked in the darkness from Dal's eyes.
            < "No. What knowledge you have offered is not of enough value. Capturing and returning your dragon will not be easy, so you must make the reward valuable. Tell us about your dragon, and what needs to be done to return it to you. Then say what you offer for our assistance, and we will consider. If it is not of enough value, we will leave in peace."> Dal said.
            Meepak looked alarmed at this pronouncment, casting his gaze back into the dark at his queen. Pukkik glared at Dal, a tiny growl issuing from him.
            <"Very well. Calcryx, our dragon is named. Very young, he is - our size. No trouble will you have recognizing him - no other dragons there are here. Stole him away, the putrid goblins did - to rescue him, into their lair you must go. Where we do not know. His safe return to reward, these things do we offer. Upon the Dragon Throne, items of magic lie. Three scrolls, and a magic feather. Also there is a flask; brewed to cure diseases the concoction within is. Two of these things may you take."> There was a pause, and then she added, <"Or... the key in the dragon's mouth you can take."> There was a collective gasp among the kobolds, and Yusdrayl rapped her staff on the floor again to restore order.
            <"This your reward will be, when our dragon you return to us. Two items of magic, or the key."> Dal couldn't see Yusdrayl's stare, but the weight of all the kobold eyes on him was still heavy.
            Upon translation, Nominis frowns. "We're being set up to fight the goblins for them since they don't know where the dragon is. Ask for kobold guide who can navigate this maze without us having to bypass all their defenses and whatnot. We'll get that fallen shaman most likely, but better than nothing."
            "We were always going to have to fight the goblins, if you cannot avoid them," Dal continued, nodding with Nominis' line of reasoning. "The complications are now to not just return with a baby dragon -- who may not be willing to travel peacefully with us -- but to not kill the dragon."
            < "What color dragon is Calcryx?"> Dal asked Yusdrayl, to add to the party's consideration. <"And has it matured to gain its breath weapon?">
            < "We will need a guide, to both navigate the citadel and to mollify Calcryx on its travel here. Does Meepak know the citadel's paths to where the goblins lair?">
            <"Beautiful scales of bronze, green and red, Calcryx has, if never before a dragon you have seen,"> Yusdrayl answered impatiently. <"Meepak with you will go. Know the goblin part of the citadel, none of us do, but take you there he will, and keep you safe from Calcryx he will. Fear the dragonling's breath, you need not. But know this."> A definite tone of menace entered her scratchy voice. <"Should you bring harm upon our sacred dragon, leave this citadel alive you will not. Rewards you will have for his safe return. Spoken it true, I have. Treachery you will regret... briefly.">
            The surrounding kobolds barked in appreciation of this, sounding like a kennel in the vast hall.
            “Dragon. Great,” Nala said, now back in her right mind as she felt the weariness of her rage fade. She pushed away from the wall and slung her greataxe onto her back again. She sneered a bit at the threat from the kobolds. “Maybe we should kill the dragon before it gets dangerous,” she muttered in Common. “Better now than when it’s breathing fire over the town. Maybe the goblins have finished it off.”
            Dal held his tongue at this unnecessary bit of posturing by Yusdrayl. If anything, she'd probably just emboldened those kobolds of more-aggressive intent. He could make a show or demonstrate some moment's surpassing force to overcome Yusdrayl's words, but challenging Yusdrayl like that would serve no better purpose.
            < "Until we return, then,"> Dal concluded, adding a token bow to the darkness.
            "Let's travel," Dal explained to the party. "Meepak will guide us to where the goblins lair, which is also where the adventurers were last seen."