Chapter 5 - Into the Dark - The Goblin Halls

            Meepak proudly marched the party away from the Dragon Hall, leading them through the kobold territory... or rather, telling them where to go as they traversed it ahead of him. "Leading from the front" was apparently not a great kobold virtue. They went back the way they had come, taking one of the other doors from the room where they had met Meepak. It led to a long, twisting corridor that ended in a chamber of rat droppings, crumbled flagstone, and nameless stains.
            "The end of our territory, this is," Meepak explained, gesturing towards the next door. "The back way to the goblins' lair, it is. Go farther, none of us have." He waited expectantly for the party to lead the way.
            Orklar kept Meepak in front of him, herding him with his quarterstaff if necessary. Whether Vol liked having the kobold behind him or not, Orklar had no intention of letting Meepak scurry off if he was so inclined. Though he shot Orklar a dirty look when herded forward, Meepak seemed satisfied that he was at the back of the group, rather than the front, and made no objection.
            As the party fanned slightly into the wider chamber, Orklar whispered a prayer to dark powers and scanned the room for magical signatures or residue. What he found instead, he voiced. “Tread lightly,” he said, using the tip of his staff to indicate some nearby prints. “Those we seek came this way.” It was an intuitive leap, but one he was willing to make.
            Dal was interested by Meepak's pronouncement that they'd already reached the edge of the kobolds' territory... by walking perhaps a hundred feet down a hallway from where they'd first met Meepak. Interesting dynamic, there, between the goblins and the kobolds, to be in such close proximity yet have clearly defined boundaries. "Meepak says this is the end of the kobold territory. He reports none of the kobolds have gone beyond this door, but that it leads to the goblins' area."
            From experience, Dal anticipated Nominis would investigate the door and the area beyond it. "I'm going to extinguish my staff before we open the door, but only until Nominis is able to confirm what's on the other side. No sense spilling light to announce our arrival if they've a guard." With a questioning look to Nominis if he'd like to be the one to go first, Dal stood by to put out his staff's torchlight before Nominis opened the door.
            Nominis observes the interplay, but keeps to shadows and nods thankfully as the light is extinguished. He looks over the door and very, very slowly and carefully checks to see if it's locked.
            Meepak winced as Nominis found the door locked, and proceeded to destroy the lock with his magic. The sharp sounds of the multiple cantrips tearing apart the metal inner workings of the lock echoed down the hallway behind them.
            If it opens a crack, stops treating the door as if he would skittish prey in the Great Shadow. Moving milimmeters at a time, he widens the crack looking for traps both on the floor and the above.
            Finding no traps, Nominis slowly opened the door to reveal another chamber, this one open before them, with a passage disappearing into the dark ahead. Dust and odd bits of stony debris and rubble lay scattered on the floor. An ornate fountain was built into the wall to the right. Though cracked, stained, and dry, the fountain's carving of a diving dragon retained its beauty. To the left, there was a stone door, relief-carved with skeletal dragons.
            Nominis concentrates focusing on the skeletal dragons. Almost as an afterthought, he sweeps his gaze across his companions and the fountain. Assuming everything is safe he motions others forward "I didn't find anything dangerous. That doesn't mean there is no danger, so be careful. I'll check the door, scholars might check the fountain or the door for some clue what this is." he tells the group before moving toward the far door.
            Waiting in the dark for just such an 'all clear,' Dal brings his quarterstaff back to light. As they filed into the room, Nominis set about studying the stone door - and Meepak, who made a swooping gesture with his hand when he saw the fountain and the door, perhaps of some superstitious or religious significance.
            Above the door, words were inscribed in blocky runes.
            Nominis checks the stone doors on the left, staring at them and then slowly turning toward the party and finally looking at the fountain. "There are runes above the door here, I cannot read them. Something beyond the door reminds me of the cold of the Shadow. And the fountain is weakly magical. I'll scout the passage until you read it. I will not be far. Meepak here may know something, he seemed to recognize the decorations." He disappears into the darkness of the passage
            Orklar didn’t know what it meant, but he mimicked Meepak’s gesture with his own meaty appendage. Seemed harmless enough and better to be safe in such ancient halls. Meepak looked at Orklar in surprise when the half-orc repeated his gesture, and nodded with seeming satisfaction.
            Venturing into the passage, Nominis stopped at the first intersection to peer around the corner. The cross-junction had collapsed to his right, but to his left there was a door. Ahead, the long passage held doors on either side, all of them slightly ajar. The darkness swallowed his vision before reaching the end of that hall.
            "If you're divining auras," Dal suggested, "could you concentrate a moment longer upon the fountain, identify the school of magic?"
            “More tracks,” Orklar said quietly, lumbering over toward the fountain. He inspected it a little more thoroughly before leaning his quarterstaff against the nearby wall and fetching his waterskin from its pocket in his pack. Unstoppering the skin, he emptied about a quarter of its contents into the fountain to see what would happen, if anything. He didn’t know what to expect, but water must have been had somewhere down here for two tribes of creatures to dwell.
            As Orklar poured water into the basin, he realized there was a thin layer of dried scum in it - reddish, but not dark enough to be dried blood. Nothing in particular happened when the water pooled at the bottom.
            There were signs that the chamber had been occupied some time before - small, partially-scattered piles of ash, smudges of coal - but nothing as recent as the tracks in the dust.
            Dal stepped closer to the stone door and raised his staff to highlight the runes. "Draconic. 'Tana Aman Heka Men.' 'Channel good, open the way.' 'Channel' could have multiple possible meanings, here; the Draconic term is imprecise outside of context." He considered a moment. "Maybe something like Blessing the door?"
            "While I know we're obscuring them," Dal asked Orklar, "are there enough tracks to suggest the goblins visit here often for the fountain's water?"
            “Bigger’n goblins,” Orklar said, shaking his head as he spoke while pouring the water. “But I’m just an old half-blind half-Orc when it comes to such things.”
            “Be a bit on that door,” he replied. “Eyeballing this fountain a bit yet.”
            “The footprints are human,” Nala agreed with Orklar. “Or near enough. Too big for goblins. They came this way.” Nala moved to help guard the north passage, just in case, while the others examined the fountain and the door.
            Dal stepped over adjacent to the fountain to consider its overall design. He had to wonder if 'channel' might have something to do with multiple paths water from the fountain might take, too. Looking more closely, he realized that there was a mostly-worn-away inscription in Draconic on the basin's front, almost lost in the decoration. It read, "Nainarya."
            "'Let there be fire,'" Dal translated, pointing indicatively at the inscription. "Maybe that red residue is flammable."
            “Yep, definitely magic there,” Orklar said to the fountain. “But damned if I know what kind.” He slung his waterskin with a shrug and trundled over to the skeletal dragon door. Staring at it, he didn’t get a very good feeling, but he still reached out and put a hand on the cold stone.
            “I don’t mind having a look around,” he said while he inspected the door for anything the others might have missed. “But I think our business kept on moving down the hall.”
            Orklar, meanwhile, found nothing more interesting about the door than the chill he felt when he neared it, and the beautiful carvings upon it.
            Shadow prawler return to the light listening other talk. "Did you try starting the fountain? What does inscription above the door mean? Dalian? Does Meepak know anything about this?"
            Without turning from the fountain, Dal answered back to Nominis, "'Channel good, open the way.'"
            "Well, I think it's safe to say the four didn't go through the door. While there might be something particularly enticing beyond it; knowledge, or a tool that would be useful, perhaps, or even an area of the goblins' lair the goblins don't know about; I think we should stay our course and keep following the tracks. We're here for a particular pair of purposes, now." The way Dal said the last, it was clear he found the fountain and the door more enticing than either of their tasks at hand; with a resigned sigh, he stepped away from both and took a few steps towards the north corridor. "Shall we, then?"
            Nominis shrugs at the sage "So, we need to 'heal' the door? Or it means literally priestly channel? Or maybe draconic channel?" Losing interest, he motions them forward describing what is ahead. "Anyhow, if you're done here, the hall up front has another door on the left, long hall with six doors further on. I didn't go any further than that. We can choose left doors or go through the long hall. While I'm not a fan of leaving unopened door behind, I would rather go onward simply because it is easier to orient ourselves that way. We go straight as far as we can and only then work inward."
            “Hellooo,” Orklar said with a chuckle, rapping his mace head on the cold door a couple of times lightly. Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

            As he stepped into the dusty hall, Nominis saw that the tracks on the ground that they had been following went in both directions, amid a slew of rat tracks. Nearing the end of the hall, he saw another fountain appear from the darkness, similar to the last, but larger.
            Peeking past the first few doors that lined the hall, he saw that the rooms beyond were little more than cells, filled with rat nests of uncommon size. When he reached the last two doors, though, a hungry rat the size of a dog darted out of its nest and straight at him. It scampered up to his leg and bit down, but his strong survival instinct and reflexes saved him a painful bite.
            However, the unintended noise of his boots scraping on the stone drew more rats that he hadn't seen in his quick survey of the cells. Two more enormous rats swarmed out after him, but none of them could quite seem to catch him between their long front teeth in the dark.
            “Trouble!” Nala hissed to the others as they dawdled over strange scratchings on the stone around the door and fountain. Nominis was down the hall alone. The small gnome turned and charged down the hallway, pulling a javelin from her back and throwing it at the nearest rat.
            It was hard to make out the rat in the darkness, even for her eyes, and the javelin flew on into the darkness, clattering on the stone instead of spearing the vermin.
            Vol trotted down the hall as well, taking up a position behind Nala to fire over her head at the rats dimly seen down the hall, but he had no better luck than the gnome.
            When the rats made their presence known Orklar leaned backward and glanced down the long haul. “More vermin,” he grunted and began lumbering in that direction. If it hadn’t been apparent thus far, there was no indication of a ranged weapon on Orklar’s person. Then again, having a lame, one-eyed half-Orc firing into combat probably wasn’t the wisest tactical solution.
            Meepak peered curiously from behind Dalian as the scuffle down the hallway continued, but didn't seem eager to investigate.
            Hidden in the dark, Nominis concentrated on defending himself. The rats scurried around him, but none could penetrate the shadows that protected him well enough to taste his blood.
            Dal moved forward to be adjacent to Vol, and threw a flurry of lights forward down the hall with a quick incantation to see what was about. While the light may be the Nominis' immediate detriment, permitting everyone else to actually see what was threatening him so they could help deal with it outweighed the inconvenience. The flitting colored lights revealed three gigantic rats surrounding Nominis, trying to take a bite. The light reflected in their eyes, red and green. They also showed Nominis' precarious position at the edge of a pit in the floor.
            Nala drew her greataxe and charged straight at the nearest rat, swinging mightily as she roared threateningly at the giant rodent. With the full force of her charge, she slammed her greataxe down on the rat, severing one of its hind legs and leaving it twitching on the floor.
            Vol moved up to take another shot, but this one bounced off Nala's greataxe as she was fighting and suddenly moved to the side. Vol muttered something in Espruar that didn't sound polite, embarrassed at his lacking aim.
            Nominis initial reaction was to move toward the group. But after the light appeared and he saw Nala charging he moved back to create enough space for others to join. Not liking his position between the critters, he swiped at the closest rat with his hand. Impossibly in the light of Dalians spell, shadow forms from the hand extending it's reach downward and cutting toward the vermin. He turns back and sets his klar to defending position.
            The slithering shadow-shape jabbed at the rat, but to no avail - it scampered away from the unnatural shadow, then darted in to retaliate. Its teeth scraped against his armored shin, finding no real purchase. Mindful of the other rat, he batted it away with his klar when it leapt at him, and it squeaked and chittered angrily as it skidded across the stone.
            Dal moved steadily forward, again keeping pace with Vol, and closing into range of some of his lighter combat spells. With only one threat in sight from his position, Dal conjured and threw an orb of acid at the rat to Nominis' east. Dal kept the lights illuminating the crux of the combat area.
            With Orklar in the way and Nominis moving about, trying to keep the rats at bay, Dal's spell narrowly missed the two and its actual target, sizzling on the floor instead. The stone floor grew pitted where the acid struck.
            Vol took the opportunity to skewer that same rat with an arrow. Its squeals were far louder than a rat of normal size, and they echoed in the halls.
            Orklar squatted down and inspected the maimed rat in front of him. The twitching seemed indicative enough, but the half-Orc didn’t see any point in letting the thing suffer. "Hmph, kind of small," he said, cocking an arm back and then rapping the rodent with his meaty hunk of mace.
            Whatever wonder one might have at Orklar's homeland, where the rats were larger than dogs, it seemed to have prepared him for killing them. With a solid thwack, the rat's head was smashed flat.
            The fight was all but over, but the last hungry rat persisted in trying to get at the meat in Nominis' thigh. To no avail; he deftly stood back and allowed the rat's lunge to fall short.
            Dal couldn't see what was still menacing Nominis, so didn't risk throwing another hazardous blob of acid into the fray. He maintained the lights swirling about such that others closer to the fight might be able to see and assist in putting down the last of the vermin. Dal turned sideways to put his back to the wall and mind the passageway behind them; they'd left two unopened doors in their wake that might bear more surprises. Vol followed suit, his bow nocked and ready.
            Seeing another opportunity, Orklar stepped lively in the direction of the other downed rat, after allowing Nala and her axe to cross in front of him. Winding up with his bloodied bludgeoner once more, a half-smile cocked on his lips. “Breakfast and lunch,” he said and crashed his weapon into the twitching rodent. With a thick splurch, that rat's head was also pounded into the pavement.
            Nominis takes one look behind at Orklar making sure the other rat is dead, shrugs at the tactics and slashes at one last remaining vermin. His living shadows reached for the rat, but it scurried out of the way, snapping at him in turn. Neither combatant could lay a telling wound on the other.
            "Oh, no, you're not going anywhere, missy." comments Nominis as he follows the rat, thankful for the chance to get out of the lights. Entering the gloom of the room, he tries physical weapons this time.
            His rapier stabbed deep into the dog-sized rat, and it squealed, all will to get at Nominis' tasty flesh gone. Instead, it fled into a hole in the wall, compressing itself surprisingly small to fit, abandoning its nest to Nominis.
            "Well, very brave of you." Nominis comments, quickly looking over the filthy nest, but not touching anything. No sense in contracting some kind of fever. If he notices anything worth investigating, he will take it out of the nest with the boots or rapier as needed.
            Nominis collects minor valuables from the nest "There are some coins and gems in the nests if you're willing to poke. Maybe we find some trace of the lost adventurers?"
            Meepak peered at the party from a safe distance, having stayed where he was even with the visible rats dispatched.
            As Nominis comes out of the cell, he comments to the party "We can go on, but this fight made quite a noise, we should proceed more carefully. And, Orklar, I understand the need to have food available, but dispatching them could be left for after the battle. Do you agree that it should be first priority to stop the fight and only then kill those incapacitated?"
            Orklar had slung his big mace and was cutting the throats of the rats as he held them by the tails. Letting the worst of them drain into the pit. He cast Nominis a quick glance and roared some laughter. “Barely two eyes between us, and he’s ready to take on the world! I like it!” he said as he returned his attention to his draining vermin.
            "There's something you don't see every day," Vol quipped, grinning at Orklar's preparation of the rats. "At least, not in the south!"
            "I get the feeling this whole area is tighter quarters than we've given it credit; the kobolds and the goblins stand apart by a handful of hallways and doors. Be assured," Dal motioned with his lit quarterstaff for emphasis, letting its light play with the shadows, undoubtedly visible to any sentry around any of many corners ahead. "Between that and the noise, they know we're here. Which means they're picking where they'll ambush us."
            Though this was his first experience below ground like this, much less in hostile territory, Dal shrugged off his inexperience. "It's what I'd do." Game theory was game theory.
            "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. And they have advantage in darkness. So I guess, we go full light from now on?" affirms Nominis
            "Nominis, we were just cleaning up behind you," Dal pointed out, factually, no accusation or anger in his tone at all. "You're a good scout, but when you encounter danger, fall back to us and let us help. I know you dislike the light," and with that, Dal snuffed the remaining duration of the Dancing Lights he'd conjured with a gesture, leaving his quarterstaff lit, "so I'm sorry for that. If all we can do is ensure that what's been put down, stays down, well, I can't second-guess that."
            "I couldn't fall back, I noticed them too late to retreat. I realize you had to run forward to reach me, but Orklar didn't help Nala dispatch them faster. And any one of them could have bitten into me while he wasted time dispatching the downed. What happens when that someone standing in the middle is you? Or Longears?"
            “Wait,” Orklar interjected. “You were serious about that?”
            He had tied the rat tails together and slung them over a hook on his belt, so the half-orc once more pulled his heavy mace to hand. He took a step toward Nominis and the doorway which had separated the shadow man from his enemy. Orklar’s looming frame consumed much of the available space, and he slowly raised his weapon. The gore covered ball of metal was larger than Nominis’ own head.
            “My depth perception’s not what it used to be,” he said with a smirk. “But if you’re giving me the okay to swing this between you and that door frame to hit a rat, then I’m happy to oblige in the future.”
            “Heh,” he added, his ragged teeth in a smile. “Don’t worry, my death-touched friend. If those nasty rats gnaw on you a bit, old Orklar will fix you up.”
            Meepak finally summoned the courage to rejoin the party, now that the threat had been dealt with. Stopping by the smushed ruin of rat brains on the stone floor, he unselfconsciously scooped up a handful and stuffed it in his mouth. Looking around, he seemed disappointed when he saw that the corpses had been claimed by Orklar.
            Dal minded the open pits ahead with a modest bit of anxiety. "I'm not certain I can make it across those. Any other routes?"
            "Maybe the way back. But this shouldn't be too hard to pass by, hug the wall and step to one side. We just need some way to get across the other one. While I check the door, you can check the statue for more hints." Nominis said.
            Orklar reworked some gear and unslung the coil of rope he carried, leaning over to look into the pit as he did it. A few dessicated rat corpses (of normal size), rusted metal bits, and filth lay at the bottom of the deep pit, but nothing more interesting. It looked like someone had discovered a way to jam the mechanism that raised the trapdoor back up flush with the floor with iron spikes. The trapdoor was well-camoflaged with the same kind of cobbles as the rest of the floor; no doubt it would have been hard to spot, had it been closed.
            With no task while the pit was investigated, Dal went as indicated to the rats' nest and used the shod butt of his staff to dredge out and retrieve the valuables Nominis had sighted. All in all, Dalian found nearly a pound of coins, gold and tarnished silver of old make, and a large handful of fractured blue crystals - perhaps some remnant from the time the citadel was swallowed by the earth.
            Nominis checks the pit, pulls back several steps and jumps over the pit. He misjudged the distance, and nearly fell in - but caught himself at the last moment on the lip of the pit. With minimal effort, he was able to haul himself out on the far side.
            With the rats dead, Nala retrieved her javelin and cleaned it and her axe of rat gore. “I could probably make the jump across,” the little gnome said, eying the pit. “I could string a rope up to help those who can’t. Or climb down into the pit and climb back out. However you want to do it.” She watched Nominis take the jump, and followed after him. Nala, too, had difficulty with the distance, but also caught herself on the lip of the pit and climbed out on the far side. Meepak looked on in dismay.
            Dal looked very uncertain at jumping that ten-foot gap safely, much less the other one and making it through the single-wide doorway.
            He instead considered the set of six cells and their doors that they had just passed; they opened outwards, the hinges might be accessible, and if the doors were thus removable and were of enough height, they might be enough to span the inside corners of either pit. In his judgement, the doors would serve for that purpose - and the hinges were indeed freely accessible from the outside of the cells. It didn't even look like much effort would be needed to free them - if anyone had the strength, they could simply be lifted off their hinges.
            Orklar watched the leaping attempts of the front-liners with a bit of distaste. He expected the elf could float across the air with equal ease, so he cast his eye toward Dalian and cocked a half-smile upon seeing the hesitancy there.
            “Orklar does not jump,” the half-orc said with a reassuring chuckle. “But we have rope. We can climb. Slow going though. Always slow going. Unless you have a better idea?” He limped about, looking around for somewhere to anchor the rope he was carrying. To his eye, the cell door handles were his best bet for that, unless he wanted to loop the rope entirely around a door.
            As he cleared the pit, Nominis unslung the rope and threw it back to the rest of the party. Between the rope and the door(s) they could build two fairly secure bridges across both pits.

            Once on the far side of the open pit, they were confronted with a dry fountain similar to the other they had seen, but much larger. It, too, was carved with a dragon. The other pit trap was similar to the first; twenty feet deep, spiked open, and positioned in front of the closed door.
            Both Vol and Orklar noticed that the tracks they had seen before continued in this room; it looked like they had headed across the other pit. Vol pointed the tracks out before the party could obliterate them too much with their own footprints. "Looks like we're on the right path."
            Dal expected to find an inscription upon this fountain as well, so looked high and low for it, wondering how it might be tied into the cryptic instructions upon the other one.
            While the others worked to remove the remaining cell doors and ferry them across the first pit to build a bridge across the second (and Meepak watched), Dal found the worn inscription he was looking for, hardly legible after all this time. Something must have happened for it to be this worn with no weather to claim culpability, but what had blunted the carving so wasn't clear.
            "Yeesh; 'Naihuine' -- 'let there be death,'" Dal translated from the inscription he found. "Versus 'Nainarya' -- 'let there be fire' -- on the first one. Cheery. Orklar, I presume this one radiates magic, too?"
            Before Orklar could answer, a faint hissing from the fountain heralded a thick spray of yellow-green mist from the stone dragon's mouth. The cloud hung in the air, enveloping Dal, Orklar and Vol, though no one else was close enough to the fountain be caught in the worst of it. Fortunately, Dal was quick-witted enough to hold his breath as he hurried out of the mist, even though it was already dissipating. All that remained were a slightly acrid chemical stink on his clothes and skin.
            The other two weren't as quick to do the same, and Orklar fell to a fit of coughing - but nothing like the bout that wracked Vol. The elf coughed until he spat blood, and was left wheezing and gasping weakly. Unable to catch his breath, he finally motioned the others closer.
            Equal parts horrified at what he'd done and deeply concerned for Orklar's and Vol's health, Dal knelt next to Vol -- who'd apparently taken the worst of it -- and fumbled with his own gear, retrieving his waterskin. He held it forward, offering to permit Vol to drink from it or have Dal help flush his face of the chemical if it seemed to be lingering upon Vol.
            Vol accepted Dal's offer of water gratefully. As he drank and washed his face, Meepak cautiously uncurled from the ball that he had tucked himself into in the far corner, and if a reptile could look relieved, that was the look that his face wore. It was probably due more to his escape from the gas than to the others' survival of it, though.
            "I need fresh air to clear my lungs," Vol gasped in a whisper. "I'll head back outside the Citadel, and wait for you there until I've recovered."
            Orklar dropped the door he was carrying without ceremony as he tried to shy from the worst of the trap. Hacking and coughing, he wandered off and spit repeatedly to clear the nastiness that had crept into his mouth and lungs.
            The big half-Orc pulled a flask from his waist and tipped a belt of whatever liquid was inside into his mouth. He swished once or twice, entertaining the notion of spitting again, and then swallowed to spite the sinister fountain. Tucking the flask away, he turned to Dalian.
            “This one radiates gas,” he said.
            He watched the elf depart and then looked back toward the offending trap. Taking a deep breath, just in case, he hefted the door he had dropped and carried it to the fountain. With an unceremonious grunt, he leaned the door across the structure in such a way as to deflect the worst of the gas, should it be triggered again.
            Then he hocked and spit onto the basin with a sneer and returned to the progress of breaching the second door.
            Dal stood back away from the fountain, still a bit mortified, but relieved that Orklar was back on his feet and saw fit to respond with a wry comment. Dal couldn't help a glance back south along the corridor, wondering in a cautious-but-academic manner if the other fountain would trigger in the same way, and who and why someone might build something like these.
            Nala grumbled a bit, as the jump seemed farther than she anticipated, but she managed to catch the lip and pull herself up. She helped wrangle the ropes and doors across the pits for the others, and so avoided the gas trap.
            “Maybe we shouldn’t touch things?” Nala asked. “Find wot yeh need there?” She nodded to the fountain.
            "I can't defend what I caused, but I also can't apologize for searching and trying things. I was sharing what I found; I had no idea it would trigger a trap, like that. But it's something we could use, if we get pursued back through here. We get to the south, kick out the bridge, and we call the command word again against whatever's still passing through this room, chasing us."
            <"Going back, he is?"> Meepak asked Dal as Vol left them, the kobold's little brow wrinkled with puzzlement.
            <"Yes; he took the worst of that, by far. Outside. Fresh air."> Dal said.

            Brick Orcrender was a tornado of fury and rage. Those damned goblins had attacked his camp in the night! He had awoken to the sounds of the creatures rummaging through his stuff and had instantly sprang to action. Still clad in his armor (what dwarf would take it off?), he grabbed his axes and screamed a battle cry as he cleft the nearest one in twain. He then jumped to the next, his twin axes working away.
            The band of goblins was more than a few. While the dwarf was being distracted by goblins dying, the others were grabbing what they could and running off. They just took things at random, not really noticing the value therein - the slumbering dwarf was much more dangerous than they had planned for!
            Moments later, the small clearing was silent once more, littered with the bleeding bodies of the few goblins that were unfortunate enough to be in range of Brick. He grumbled while he cleaned the ichor off his axes with the dirty rags the goblins had used for clothes. As he did so, he began surveying the damage.
            "Oi!" he exclaimed in despair. Most of the taken items weren't the end of the world - he could easily replace his mess kit and other random accoutrements. What concerned him was the large missing keg. Brick had purchased the keg from a tavern in a nearby town after sampling the ale. It was quite a good brew, one he wanted back. Brick grumbled to himself again as he packed up his remaining belongings and began to track down the goblins who raided him. Their retreat was hasty and careless, and their path was easy to follow. He set his axes across his back and set off with purpose. "Time tae go a'huntin'!"

            When the others were ready, Nominis crossed the wobbly bridge of doors over the second pit trap to the other exit from the room. The door opened readily enough, but the stench that flowed out from it was nauseating. Looking into the room beyond, the stink was explained: the much-chewed carcasses of several cave rats, smaller vermin, a few goblins and a human lay on a floor of filth, old bones, hair, and fur.
            The wall to his right was smashed, opening on rubble-strewn darkness. He could see a twitching naked tail to one side of the door, so long that it stretched into the room.
            Nominis waves others back before silently returning to the room and explaining what he saw. "I would say let the beast be. But there is fresh human body there. Could be one of the lost adventurers. Anyone has anything to pacify gigantic rat? We throw the kobold to it? Hey, Meepak, feel like rustle against the rat? Do you mean to flee everytime we go into a fight? How will you get your dragon back if you don't help?"
            Dal frowned at Nom's teasing of their guide and dragon trainer, knowing the teasing wouldn't translate to Meepak as anything other than a veiled threat. He retorted to Nom, "Are you expending effort trying to alienate our guide and entice the kobolds to overrun our flank, or does it just come naturally to you?" Sure, Meepak couldn't guide them in here, but Meepak still knew the goblins to some degree, and presumably knew how to pacify the dragon they were likely to encounter ahead. He was never designated a guard escort or phalanx for the party, but Dal had to suggest at Nom's objection that Meepak wasn't helping, "You want me to give him a sword?"
            Dal cleared his head with a sigh. "We can't let the 'beast' be; we have to go that way. But we can withdraw the bridge from this pit and hit it from a distance. Do you know for certain it's a rat's tail you saw?"
            "Dalian, if there was no dragon we would fight both kobolds and goblins. And he doesn't really lead us, we chose the way each time and he followed. He didn't warning you about the trap. What else do you need!?" Nominis looks at the pacifist incredulously
            Dal looked confused, "He already indicated the kobolds hadn't been past the door, to the south, to the first fountain -- he has no knowledge of these areas to lead within, nor knowledge of the traps. At this point, he's only here to help control the dragon, once we find it."
            "No, I'm not definitely sure. It looks like giant rat tail. But I didn't see the beast. We could lure it toward us and onto the bridge maybe." Nominis said.
            "Maybe," Dal nodded affirmatively, willing to try whatever tactics the group worked out. Whatever it is, they'd have to deal with it. It crossed Dal's mind that the tail Nominis spotted might be the dragon, but that'd momentarily bear out if it was the case.
            Meepak stared at Nominis and Dal arguing with all the reptilian calm that he had lacked during the poison gas attack. He didn't ask what Nominis was saying to him, but stayed well back - far enough that it was clear that Orklar would have to herd him forward. Kobolds were many things, but "brave" wasn't one of them.
            Orklar whistled and clapped his hands together twice to get everyone’s attention. “Sheathe it, the pair of you,” he said to Nominis and Dalian. “We’re down an elf and need to keep it together.”
            “You,” he said, pointing at Nominis. “Stop niggling the kobold. It’s not helping, and he doesn’t understand a damn word you’re saying anyway.”
            “And you,” Orklar swung the same finger in Dalian’s direction, “Unclench. This scaly wretch you’re defending would eat your face off in a minute, given the chance. Remember that.”
            Orklar smiled and gave Meepak a big thumbs up to show him everything was okay. Then he took what rope he had left and fastened one end to one of the dead rats that he pulled from his belt.
            “Now, Nala, go stand over there please and get ready to put that axe to good use,” he said, pointing to one side of the opened doorway. “We’re gonna see about baiting this hook and maybe draw something out of that hole. Sound good?” he asked everyone.
            Regardless of their response, Orklar whirled the dead rat in a loose arc before tossing it into the fetid room. He then started pulling the carcass toward the door, trying to tantalize any hungry beasties lurking in the shadows.
            It proved a wise precaution. Three enormous rats immediately swarmed the carcass, ceasing their attack when they realized it was not a threat, though they seemed a bit confused as to how the corpse was moving. What really drew the eye, though, was the absolutely humongous rat that rose from under a pile of filth on the floor. At least as large as a tall man, its squeak was more of a shriek like a bird of prey. It trundled toward the other rats to attack Nominis and Nala on the dangerously wobbling bridge, but it was so bloated that its smaller, quicker kin got there first. Still, the relatively narrow doorway was easy to defend, offering cover from the swarming giant rats - and offering it to the rats, as well.
            “Well that was a little more successful than I imagined,” Orklar chuckled. “One meal gets us four more!”
            Dal quickly sent a Magic Missile streaking through the door to hit the largest rat; the magical streak bobbed and weaved its way nigh-unerringly through the fracas towards its target. The enormous rat squealed like a teakettle grown to the size of a horse when Dal's missile of light struck it. It appeared more enraged than injured by the assault, however.
            "Let them have this room; we should fall back south; pull out the bridge; trigger the fountain on them over and over again." Putting action to words, Dal moved south over the next pit and into the hall. He realized, given the rat warrens, that the rats may have a passage into the corridor, too, so minded the western cells for fresh intrusion. His fist rolled and tightened upon his oak quarterstaff, anticipating.
            “No! No gas! Too unpredictable.,” Orklar shouted. “And it might spoil the meat,” he added under his breath. He dropped the rope he had used to bait the rats thus far and instead drew his hefty mace. Shield still locked firmly on his other arm, he advanced slowly.
            “Give a little ground, folks! Let ‘em stick their necks out,” he said, followed by, “Meepak, move.” He brushed by the little kobold to get into position.
            Meepak didn't need a translator to know he was in the way. With an "Eep!" he scurred back over the bridge of doors to where Dal was standing.
            Nala pulled her greataxe and grinned. She agreed with the others to put the pit between them and the rats. “We can pick them off at range,” she said. She swung her greataxe at the nearest rat and then retreated back across the pit.
            The rats backed away as she swung at them, hissing at her like big cats - but the gigantic rat was having none of it. It shoved past the lesser rats, squirreling through the doorway and onto the bridge of doors - and into the dry fountain, from which it lunged to snap at Nala. The wily rat dugs its long teeth deep into her flesh, retreating back into the basin when she swung her axe to try to fend it off. This close, its swollen dugs and distended belly made it clear that this was a female, no less vicious in its hunger for that.
            The other rats, more timid, touched the bridge cautiously, whiskers twitching.
            Nominis calmly stepped away from the gigantic, irate rodent, and summoned the shadows to his bidding. They rose up to drag weakly at the rats, making them squeak and pipe with alarm. The three dog-sized rats piled out onto the wobbly bridge, snapping at Nala and Orklar, but without penetrating their armor.
            Dal thought fast. He had been in the thick of the poison mist, and understandably preoccupied when it had sprayed him - but his mind was sharp as any wizard worth his salt, and he remembered where the others had been standing, both those affected and those who had gone free of the spray's effects. A quick calculation later, he called out, "Nala! Step back! We'll catch the rats in the poison!"
            Orklar kept on the move as best he was able, stomping his feet around the swarming vermin to provide as challenging a target as possible. Sweeping his head back and forth, he sized up the best rat to take a crack at.
            Then like a bear trap, he brought the big mace down toward the rat at the rear.
            “Crunch!” he growled as the big ball made its impact. The big half-orc seemed to be enjoying himself a little more than he should. He missed the rat, but the heavy door he struck bounced just a bit at the impact of his mace. The other two doors that formed the bridge shifted a little as well, wobbling.
            “Argh!” Nala howled in anger and pain as the massive rat tore at her shoulder. She released the rage, yelling at the creature as she swung her greataxe at it. She struck the human-sized rat just as it lunged at her again, whacking its head to the side and sending a few rat teeth flying.
            That knocked the fight right out of the animal, gigantic or not. With a squeal of pain like someone torturing a violin, it ducked back into the fountain, hopped out on the far side, and ran back across the bridge and into its filthy nest.
            Nominis stepped in to slash at the nearest rat with his living tattoo; the shadowy tendril raked and strangled the rat, cutting off its cries and leaving it twitching on the unstable bridge... slowly sliding toward the pit with every shift of the door. The one facing off with Nala hopped up into the fountain the enormous rat-mother had abandoned, snapping at Nala from its improved height, while the other came perilously close to chewing flesh instead of armor as it temporarily hung from Orklar's arm. Dropping back to the bridge when he shook it off, it hissed like an angry puff adder.
            Orklar crashed back and forth with the rats, exchanging blows, each seeking significant purchase. Great sweeping arcs of his mace tried to catch vulnerable vermin bits, his voice growling and grunting all the while. “C’mon you mangy bits of cave shit!” he roared. His lacking depth perception was enough to throw off his aim, and the rat dancing with him avoided the brunt of his blows.
            Nala glanced back at Dal as he yelled for her to step back. Now?! She was fighting! With a roar of frustration, she swung out with her axe at the nearest injured rat before taking a step back between Nominis and Orklar so Dalian could trigger the trap.
            The rat ducked into the fountain, avoiding her axe, but the moment she hopped back, Dal was ready.
            "Nahuine!" The Draconic word spilled from his lips smoothly, and a moment later the fountain made a rattling noise... and a mere puff of green mist trickled from the dragon's maw down into the basin of the fountain.
            It was enough to bring the rat up out of its hiding place, scrambling to cleaner air. "Argh!" Dal exclaimed in frustration at the fountain's exhaustion.
            Nominis, meanwhile, had moved to bring the rat nearest its lair within reach. Again his tattoo lifted from his skin, lashing out to strangle the rat.
            Meepak let out a small yip, then squeezed past Dal to hide in the now-doorless cell behind him. The reason became apparent when Dal glanced back down in the darkness the way they had come. Heavy and rapid footfalls resolved into an armored dwarf, running down the hall toward him!

            Brick frowned as he eyed the ravine from the treeline. There were random animals about; a goat and a donkey, all eating from various feedbags. He didn't know goblins to use animals in this way, so clearly someone else was around. Maybe he missed a turn somewhere? The trail did eventually go cold; he was no tracker after all. He simply kept going straight ahead. He decided to sit and watch for a while, maybe someone would appear whom he could ask...
            After sitting in the scorching heat for a bit, with nothing to alleviate his boredom, he ventured closer. The white goat looked up and baaed at him, while the donkey seemed unperturbed. The remains of a camp lay strewn about, and judging by the amount of feed remaining in the feedbags, the animals hadn't been left here long.
            A bit of rope tied about one of the broken pillars by the ravine caught his eye. Covered with Dethek graffiti, he was nonetheless unable to make sense of the runes on the pillar, so he looked down into the ravine instead.
            The cliffs dropped down into darkness, though he could see that there were ledges below, and a narrow set of switchback stairs descending into the earth. But what caught his eye was a figure far below, lit by circling blue lights, an island of light in the darkness. No goblin, and no dwarf, either. Every now and then, the lights would wink out, then appear again, while the tiny figure sat alone.
            The Dwarf eyed the figure for a long while, attempting to discern who they might be, or the reason they might be there. At least, there was a connection to the camp above, what with the rope leading between. His eyes lifted to the cursed ball of flame that was baking him within his armor. He made a face and shook a gauntleted fist futilely at it, uttering a few choice Dwarven words not fit for children.
            Deciding that "down" was better than "up" right now, and that maybe that individual could give him some information, Brick grabbed hold of the rope and began to slowly and carefully abseil down.
            Brick found that the rope dropped him to a ledge, from which steep switchback stairs led down to a courtyard - not so incongruous to a dwarf as to the others that had come down here, perhaps. There, the figure was waiting: an elf with an arrow nocked to his bow, though it wasn't drawn or aimed. The elf gave him a lazy smile, though he looked... well, to a dwarf, no elf ever really looked healthy, they were far too twiggy for that; but this one was paler than usual for this clime, and wheezing a bit when he spoke, to boot.
            "Hello there, friend. At least, I hope we'll be friends. What do you say?"
            The pale blue lights circled Brick now, rather than the elf.
            As soon as Brick dropped below the level of direct sunlight, the temperature plummeted. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, though it would take more time for his armor to cool. Reaching the bottom, he furrowed his eyes at the tableau. He swatted his hand at one of the lights a couple times before turning to the elf. "Oi, lad, whaddye want me ta say? I ain't yer enemy... unless ye be tha one what sent them thrice damned goblins who stole me ale." His expression hardened, though he made no move towards the axes on his back.
            The elf laughed good-naturedly, but the laugh devolved into a coughing fit that ended in him spitting blood. Eyes watering and bow lowered, he waved for Brick to approach.
            "I don't generally hang out with goblins... but then, the same could be said for kobolds, so who knows?" he half-wheezed, half-chuckled; a mysterious thing to say. He drank from his waterskin, coughing a little more, but seemed able to speak after. "I'm Vol. What's your name? And... you came down here looking for ale?" This appeared to amuse Vol greatly, by his expression of suppressed mirth.
            "Kobolds ye say?" Brick raised an eyebrow, but his expression softened a bit as he approached, almost concerned. "Oi Lad, he need ta git yerself healin' for that." His pointed gauntlet towards the blood splatter turned into an extended open hand. "Brick. Brick Orcrender. I was trackin' them damned goblins, but I ain't too good at it in the heat." He had to admit that the cask was likely gone now. But then... "If'n ye know tha owner o' tha cask over yonder," he hiked his other thumb towards Orklar's keg, "I may be innerested in it."
            "Nothing fresh air and a bit of rest won't cure, I'm sure," Vol said cheerily, the effect slightly ruined by his wheezing. He clasped Brick's forearm along his own. "Tharivol Galanodel. Just Vol is fine, though."
            His weak smile turned mischievous. "The owner of the cask up there is Orklar. Missing eye, limps. Can't miss him. If you're willing to help my fellows in there out, I'm sure he'll be willing to come to an agreement with you about the ale. I can tell you how to find them, if you're game."
            Brick nodded largely. "Aye lad. Me axes ain't on me back fer decoration." He chuckled a little before rubbing his gauntlets together. " So where be ye fellows then?"

            “Hells! My aim is off without arrows whistling by me!” Orklar growled. “Tell that damn elf to hurry back here!” He knew time wasn’t on his side where it concerned the rats finding a chink in his defenses and armor, but he stayed in the melee just the same. Not that he would admit it, but a large part of his motivation was the growling in his stomach.
            “Come here you little furry < sh’tok >,” he said and took another mighty swing at one of the rodents.
            "Charging dwarf from the south!" Dal yelled in alarm and moved to the side of the corridor, he gripped his lit quarterstaff tightly, ready to block or cast it forward as the dwarf's arrival may necessitate.
            "HOLD!" Dal demanded of the dwarf. Allegiances were most certainly not clear at the moment, and Dal had heard tales of dark dwarves in places like this.
            Nala grinned a bit as the fountain huffed weakly. Well, more rats for her to kill! And then she would kill dwarves! She heard Dalian’s call behind her. Stepping up to the rat again, Nala swung her axe.
            "Out tha way, boy!" Brick shouted as he retrieved his twin axes off his back. His eyes weren't on Dal, rather beyond him to the rat in the other room. "I ain't got no beef with ye." He increased his speed, apparently charging!
            Things happened fast, then. Orklar and Nala annihilated the remaining rat, while Dal took a swing at the dwarf charging closer and closer... and past him, ducking the staff and thundering across the precarious bridge they had fashioned over the pit and up to the rat, only to find its head crushed and its body chopped in half.
            Shadows immediately adhered to the dwarf, slowing and hindering his movement. Nominis moves so that he can see both the door where big rat fled to and the dwarf. While seemingly friendly, Nominis didn't survive until now by being trusting.
            The Dwarf barely registered Dal as he trundled past. Only one object held his focus. But then, once he entered the door, his progress was slowed by black tendrils. "Oi wot?" he complained. He eyed the magic with an annoyed look, pulling at them futilely. Then he watched as the remaining rat was finished off before he reached it. "Oh. Well. That be disappointin'"
            Nala spun around. Another threat? The raging gnome grinned malevolently and raised her axe to charge at the attacking dwarf! But he lowered his axe, and Nala stopped, confused, fatigue washing over her as she breathed heavily, sweat standing on on her little, muscled body.
            Orklar spun slowly away from the approaching dwarf, right past Nala, putting a bit of distance between himself and the newcomer. His shield was casually held to bear, but his weapon arm hung without menace at the moment. The one eye squinted in assessment.
            “Disappointing?” he grumbled. “Well there’s more in there if you’re itching to get bloody.” Orklar nodded his head in the direction the fat rat had fled. And technically he only knew of one rat in there, but it was a BIG one, plus there were always more rats. So he didn’t consider it an outright lie.
            Then he waited to see what the deep dweller would do.
            Brick's eyes went from Orklar to the darkened room he had indicated, and back again. At last he grunted and lowered his axes. "Aye, disappointin'." he nodded, "Plenty o' time ta get bloody. I ain't in no rush. Besides, better to have allies a'fore I get meself o'er me head." He then glanced at all the assembled adventurers, recognizing them from their descriptions. He put away his axes to have his hands available. He then hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "Yer friend Vol at tha door, he sent me down 'ere. Said Ye owned a cask o' ale at tha surface." He focused his eyes back on Orklar at those words, "If ye be agreeable tae sellin it." For the first time the dwarf flashed a toothy smile. "Me name's Brick."
            Once it becomes clear the new arrival won't fight them, Nominis releases his control of the shadows. They swirl around for the moment, some flowing into him, others fleeing to their normal places at the edge of the light. "Nominis Expers" He nods at the dwarf, but focuses on the darkness in the next room.
            “Brick?” Nala eyed the dwarf skeptically. “I could take you!” the tired gnome insisted, trying not to slump too much against the wall. She could feel her energy returning soon, though. She pulled out a flask and took a long drink as the others introduced themselves. “I’m Nala,” she said, cleaning the blood from her axe.
            “Eaasy there, Little Volcano,” Orklar snorted in good humor at Nala’s bravado. “No one’s sayin’ you’re not top dog.”
            Orklar’s stance eased and he slung his mace but kept his shield to hand for the time being. The one dark eye sized up the dwarf for a moment or two.
            “Vol sent you on, hm?” he said. “Alright, fair enough. I’m Orklar, and that delicate flower you trundled past is Dalian.” He waved off Dalian’s rebuttal and continued. “Good man, deep in the books.”
            “Got some bad news for you though, Brick,” Orklar said. “I’m not willing to sell that cask. But, I might be willing to share it.” The half-orc had seen the mug hanging among the dwarf’s belongings and knew a fellow carouser when he saw one. He pulled a flask from a pouch on his belt, pulled the stopper, and savored a swallow before continuing.
            “See we’re down here trying to find some local folks who went missing,” he said, gesturing around with the open flask. “We could use someone comfortable underground in the old stone, if you get my meaning. Give us a hand, and I’d split that cask with you right even, down to the drop.”
            The Dwarf grinned widely at the little barbarian. "That be soundin' like a challenge. One I be happy ta take ya up on, when we be out o' this 'ere place."
            He then eyed Orklar as the half-orc spoke. He was momentarily surprised by his eloquence; the raiding parties that occasionally harassed the dwarfhold he called home never spoke beyond grunts and yells. Then again, he was more or less the same when battle was joined. His eyes narrowed slightly at the orc's refusal to sell - he very nearly challenged him for it - but then, an alternate offer was made.
            Suddenly, he laughed and struck out a hand to seal the deal. "Aye! That be agreeable, lad. Half o' yer ale fer me help."
            “Good enough!” Orklar concurred upon the handshake. He holstered his flask and hefted his mace again, pointing the ball of it at the door. “Only problem being, we think one of those folks we’re searching for is already face down in there, and there’s a mighty big rat laying claim to the body.”
            “Nominis usually takes point to scout, but we’re past that bit of it now,” he continued. “Then Nala charges in, but we seem to have broken our rhythm just now. So, who wants to stick their head in first…?”
            “Hey let the orc do it,” Orklar said jovially out one side of his mouth. “Yeah, good idea! Send the orc in,” he replied in a different voice out the other side of his mouth. He expected that as soon as he made motion to move into the rat den, either Brick or Nala would barrel past him. Such was their nature.
            But shaking his head with a chuckle, he moved toward the stinky room. His intent was to grab an arm or leg of the humanoid and drag what he hoped wasn't a zombie out into the gas chamber.

            On entering the rats' nest, Orklar could see that the wall to his right had collapsed, opening onto a field of rubble. Bloodstains suggested that the gigantic rat had fled there.
            Once the human carcass had been dragged (carefully, as what was left of it was well into rotting) into the fountain room, much to the dismay of all the vermin crawling over it and the rest of the filth in the rats' nest, it was clear that it had belonged to an adventurer, and hadn't been looted. Clad in studded leather armor, the body was festooned with daggers, as well as a quiver with six arrows remaining, a vial of green liquid in one pocket, and a pouch of seventeen gold coins with the stamp of Chondath (somewhat common in the Shaar). Orklar had also dragged out the shortbow that lay near the man's hand, and the knotted sack beside him. The sack, once unknotted, was revealed to have escaped the attention of the vermin; within lay a waterskin, three torches, flint and steel, and, wrapped deep within a bedroll, a small amount of dried jerky and dried fruit.
            On the man's finger was a golden ring, engraved with the name, 'Karakas.'
            Nominis follows the oracle into the room, waiting for the rat grandfather (mother?) to return. When nothing happens, he spends some more time in the room looking for other treasure, hidden (or otherwise) passages and other things of note. He keeps his barbed net ready in case the rat returns. Last thing, he checks if the rubble open up into other passages.
            After spending some time picking through the disgusting refuse in the rats' nest, Nominis gathered quite a hefty number of coins, mostly silver, but also some gold. He also found three of those blue crystals that had been in the other rat nests.
            Leaving the pile of wealth for now, he stepped to the crumbled wall and peered into the dark. The lightless depths held few secrets for him; it didn't look as though the rubble led anywhere of interest.
            When he finally returns, he looks at the small heap of items. "Karakas" He says "He was one of the missing adventurers, Yes?"
            "We should use his gear...except maybe the armor. It would serve in a pinch, but we all have ours. Do we finish the rat off?"
            Meepak, who had remained hidden for several minutes, finally ventured closer, going to peer into the gigantic rat nest (keeping a healthy distance from Brick). He made the same gesture as he had before, in the first fountain room, on seeing the fountain here, and the dead kobold lying in the refuse, but made no move to go closer.
            Brick grinned widely as the Orc led the way into the next room. He pulled his axes and trundled in, striking an impressive (to him) battle stance. When it was clear the only occupant was well deceased, his expression fell. He grumbled as he put his axes away once more. He then started examining the room along with the others.
            “Yeah,” Orklar sighed. “That’s one of them we were looking for. And that doesn’t bode well for the others. Blast.” He reassessed the recent findings and the situation at hand. Even if Karakas had fallen, at least they might make some use of his belongings.
            “Let his armor on him yet,” Orklar suggested. “It will help…hold him together while we work at bringing his remains back. Yech, messy business either way.”
            The half-orc worked out the best way to transport the corpse to the earlier chambers. They couldn’t leave him down here, whatever else they might encounter, they needed to bring those they found back to the surface, alive or dead.
            “Make good use of whatever he left behind,” Orklar said. “No sense letting good gear go to waste.”
            As everyone just stood around and ruminated over the remains of Karakas, Orklar shrugged and set about gathering what was useful. The sack of travel goods he fastened to his own pack, planning to share the consumables down the road.
            He fished an empty sack from the depths of his backpack and shoveled all the coins into it. Knotting the sack loosely, he dropped it back into his pack for easier transport.
            “We’ll divvy the coin later,” he said, then handed the unusual crystals to Dalian. “Here, these look to be in your wheelhouse. The rest can stay with him as far as I’m concerned. Armor especially. It’ll help…hold him together. Going to drag him back to the entrance.”
            Orklar then set to dragging Karakas back the way they had come. As he passed Dalian and Meepak, he paused.
            “Didn’t see any goblins here about,” he said, lone eye shifting between the wizard and the kobold before he trundled on his way.
            Meepak gave him a puzzled look, but grabbed the dead kobold and hauled it along as well. Meepak used Orklar's progress toward the entrance to the citadel to scurry along in relative safety, only relaxing once they were back in kobold territory. There, he let Orklar go on alone, taking the dead kobold to the ashpit and arranging it there.
            Karakas' corpse was well on its way to putrifaction, and well-gnawed by rats, but it held together within the stained armor as Orklar hauled it.
            “Live goblins,” Orklar clarified. “Though I imagine they can’t be far. Bad as rats they are.”
            Then he came across Vol returning. “Longshanks!” Orklar said. “Thanks for sending us a dwarf. You sure you’re up for this?” When the elf replied in the affirmative, the half-orc fished a few serviceable arrows from Karakas’ quiver and passed them over. “From the look of things, we’ll be needing those.”
            Nala dragged herself into the room and sat on some fallen stones to catch her breath as they investigated the rotting corpse of what turned out to be Karakas. As they divided up the things, and Orklar dragged the body back to the entrance, the gnome’s attention was caught by the gold ring and the vial of green liquid.
            “This is pretty,” Nala said, slipping the ring onto her thumb. It was too big for any fingers. “And what’s this?” She held up the green liquid to the light, then opened the vial and dabbed a bit on her finger to taste.
            Nothing in particular happened when Nala stuck the ring on her thumb. The green liquid proved tasty - it had a refreshing zing to it, and was slightly effervescent. Nala would know that tingle anywhere. This was a potion with mild healing properties.
            The long limbed, pale elf had looked even paler ever since catching back up to the group. He shook his head briefly as Nala tasted the green liquid but just chuckled as she didn't seem to suffer any ill effects. "Not a jelly trapped in a bottle, at least."
            The big half-orc chuckled at the notion of a jelly in a jar. Who would go to such trouble? “Can’t imagine that rat will be hounding us any time soon,” he said. “It’ll be licking the wounds Nala gave it for a long while. South then? There was a door back that way on an interior wall.”
            The dwarf looked right horrified when Nala unceremoniously donned a strange ring and tasted a strange liquid. "Oi! At least let tha finger-wigglers look at it first, eh? Might be cursed 'n wot." When not much happened, he shook his head and glanced at Orklar's suggestion. "Anythin ta git us outta this 'ere dead end, aye."
            “Bah!” Nala scoffed at the dwarf. “I ain’t afraid of no little ring!” the brave little gnome said. “And the this is a potion of healing,” she said.
            Meepak rejoined them as they gathered at the collapsed junction of passages. The little blue kobold seemed determined... but made no move to open the next door first.
            Shadow bard readies his klar and barbed net. He waits for everyone to gather around the door before slipping into the darkness. "Lets find us some goblins. You think other adventurers might still be alive? I mean, rats killed one of them, goblins are more dangerous." He doesn't wait for the discussion though.
            "Oi, goblins?" The dwarf's expression hardened as he grabbed his axes. "I got unfinished business wit dem." He got ready to charge in, as soon as the door opened.
            “Eeeasy, Brick,” Orklar cautioned. “There’s more to our hunt down here than you know. This scrapping kobold here, you’ve no doubt noticed, is Meepak, and he’s a guide of sorts. We made a deal with the local kobold clan for info and his help down here.”
            “The goblins stole a dragon that belonged to the kobolds.” Orklar let that sink in for a moment. “We said we’d help with that situation if we can,” he continued. “So keep an eye out, and I wouldn’t harm anything with scales if you can help it.”
            Vol nodded at Orklar. "Understood. Let's go help our new friends." The lanky elf grunted as he rose to his feet, wheezing more than he should have at the effort.
            Dal's eye drifted contemplatively to the fountain to their gathering's southeast, and the door opposite it that they'd been unable to open thus far. The fountain to the north had spewed poisonous gas; the one to the south likely expelled fire. Dal had to wonder if the fountain's enchantment was tied in some way to opening the western door in that same room.
            No matter for now, though; they had a present door in front of them to investigate. He felt a bit crowded, as they were, all waiting to rush through the door but well within the reach of any nastiness that might burst through.
            "One moment; nothing personal; just trying to get the game of this dungeoneering thing," Dal excused himself, stepping southeast to use the corner for a partial shelter. His lit quarterstaff, still blazing and held in hand, made it nothing of a stealthy move and much more a practical one.
            "Ready," he nodded in the affirmative, presuming Nom or Nala would make an attempt to open the door to the party's west. He added a quick tight grin for shifting to the position he did, and a shrug -- he had no particular insight that the door held something nasty, but saw no point in them all bunched up to catch it, if it did.
            The elf whispered up a cluster of colored lights that he set to drifting over Nala's head, then nodded his readiness. "When you're ready."
            "Oi," the dwarf grunted, "We gonna git dis 'ere door open, wot? I would, but me hands be occupied." He wiggled his twin axes and grinned toothilu.
            Nominis slipped into the room a few moments before Brick burst in after him. It was a large room, but empty, home now to little more than crumbled flagstone, rat droppings and nameless stains. Another door led from the room to their right. Nominis keeps going, checking the doors and the space in front of them for traps.
            Orklar followed along with his lumbering presence. At the door, he paused for Meepak to go through before he followed. He took a step through the door but then stopped. He didn’t like rooms that had no purpose, or no obvious purpose. If they had used gas once…
            “Going to make sure this doesn’t slam closed on us until that other one is open,” he said. Standing steadfast in the opening, he motioned for the others to continue on with the next door.
            He still waited, but as an afterthought, he fished out Karakas’ bedroll and dropped it into the opening to prevent the door from closing fully once he left his position.
            The dwarf didn't give the room more than a passing glance to ensure there were no goblins to smite before heading diectly to the next door. He parked himself before it much like the other, awaiting someone with a free hand to open it. "Oi, third time be tha charm, eh? Else dis 'ere dungeon be rather disappointin' indeed."
            Upon entering the room and seeing the activity clustered about the northwestern door, but the room otherwise plain, Dal ambled due west, tapping the wall once or twice as he progressed with the shod end of his quarterstaff. He waited, in the southwest corner of the room, with his eyes considering the walls to his south and west, while he waited for the door to the north to be opened. Dalian tapped his staff against the wall, but was rewarded with nothing more than the clack of metal on stone.
            "You might reconsider your tactics, Brick. There are already dead adventurers on this mission. Running ahead of the group without checking for pitfalls or ambushes may quickly lead to more meat for our pots even if dwarves are usually too tough for proper cooking." Nominis comments icily. Quick look at his remaining eye doesn't show any sign of mirth or joking.
            "Bah!" the dwarf dismissed the concern with a wave of his axe. "I be a dumb warrior, but I ain't stupid. I keep me eyes open fer weirdness with tha stone. If'n ye sneaky types saw sommit, ye woulda yelled, aye?" He grumbled and turned back to the door, "Now git dis 'ere door open so I be able ta keep dem goblins from stickin ye."
            Nominis found nothing suspicious about the door, and opened it - only to have a bell clatter and clang raucously on the other side. Looking within, he and Brick could see that the revealed hall was liberally strewn with sharp caltrops. The far door was missing, but the room beyond was partially blocked by a roughly mortared three-foot-high wall, complete with crenellations.
            Nala shuffled along after the others, looking around. “Bored now,” she murmured, swinging her axe casually, a bit dangerously, as it passed too close to her companions. Then the bell clattered and Nala perked up, gripping her axe. “That was interesting!” She peered through the door at the low wall and the caltrops. “We’re gonna need a broom.”
            "So yer gonna sweep up fer us?" The dwarf chuckled. He was disappointed again that there were no goblins to fight directly behind the door. But at least the defensive preparations gave him hope. This indicated a fairly established population, one who was afraid of what might come down that corridor.
            Orklar sauntered into the room to cast his gaze into the gauntlet beyond. “Or a door,” he said. “I’ll be right back with one.”
            Nominis nods at Orklars suggestion "Excellent idea, One-Eye. I'll be ready to advance." Nominis takes short look at the room beyond and moves laterally in the shadows dancing in the room from Dalians light and movement of his companions. "Strange companions for strange times. But they depend too much on that protection." he thinks as he melds into the shadows.
            Leaving the bedroll where it was in the eastern doorway, Orklar wandered back to the cells and retrieved one of the doors. He hauled it back to the party with his slow limp and prepared to enter the caltrop room with it.
            “Follow me,” he said. “And fan out when you feel lucky, or I'll topple this to bridge that wall.”
            When he got the nod from enough folks, he angled the door he carried through the northern doorway. Then he turned it and set it on the floor, holding it upright at an angle. With the bottom flat against the floor, he slowly started advancing, pushing the caltrops ahead of him as he went. An added bonus was that the vast majority of his bulk was hidden behind the door against whatever other goblin tomfoolery awaited.
            Cause sure as hell there was going to be some. Caltrops were more a portent than anything else an oracle could warrant.
            Brick fell in step behind Orklar and his door, keeping his eyes on the stonework. Caltrops were one thing - arrow slits and false floors were another entirely. The fact no arrows had yet rained down on them from behind the makeshift ramparts somewhat worried him.
            His worries were alleviated the moment Orklar stepped through the door. Goblins popped up on the far side of the half-wall, their tiny eyes lambent red in the flickers of light from Dal's staff in the previous room, and hurled javelins at the half-orc with ululating war cries. The weapons bounced off the heavy door that Orklar wielded, and the half-orc began his slow push across the floor, the heavy, reinforced door scraping the numerous caltrops aside. Behind him, Brick and Nominis waited for a chance to step up behind him.
            Nominis passed Orklar, going into the open slowly, so as to avoid stepping on a caltrop.
            Brick growled at the goblins, "Oi! Ye be owin me a cask o' ale! Ye know, tha one ye stole from me!" The orc was making slow progress with the door, but Brick knew from his Dwarven military background that charging out into the open was kind of stupid. The goblins had cover, and were, as expected, raining javelins. He grunted to himself as he reslung his axes and instead reached for the crossbow on his hip. Crossing the corridor would be slow, but at least he'd be able to do something.
            Dal motioned sharply with his free hand and manifested an addition to the party; a glowing humanoid made of light; at the goblins' flank. The light radiated out past the goblins, both silhouetting them and perhaps giving them something else to think about besides just the party's advance.
            Alarmed shouts from the goblins told Dal everything he needed to know: his distraction had worked. Nominis could see the goblins drop their javelins and draw shortswords, one of them taking a swing at the human figure composed of light, while the other darted away, flinging open a door around the corner from the half-wall.
            Meepak cowered in the doorway they had come through, behind Orklar's bedroll. <"Coming, they are! Coming, they are!"> he shrieked helpfully in the dragon tongue.
            As Orklar steadily pushed on, Nominis eased forward and threw his net. It caught the distracted goblin just as it realized it had been fooled and was turning back to the wall it was supposed to defend. A squall of surprise erupted from it as the party neared its post.
            “Grrr…” Nala growled, rushing into the room. “Stupid goblins and their stupid toys!” She swept caltrops aside with her greataxe as she went for the wall.
            The tall, pale elf gestured with his bow hand as he pulled out an arrow. The quartet of lights over Nala's head zipped forward to throw their lights closer to his targets- the goblins. He quickly notched the arrow and murmured an incantation under his breath as he pulled the string back to his cheek. The black bow in his hand suddenly seemed blacker, somehow, and the arrow glowed with a pale light of its own.
            Dal sent the humanoid figure scurrying, spider-like, up to crouch upon the ceiling, its 'head' minding the direction the other goblin had fled. Anticipating the party would benefit from unrestricted movement in the chokepoint, Dal came up behind Orklar and sized up the strewn caltrops. Dal guessed he could probably make his way to the crenelated wall if he stepped carefully, but it'd be slow going. Unless they were to wipe out all the goblins, they might need more expedient options upon their return. Dal stepped out from behind the door to clear the caltrops to Orklar's east, keeping pace since there weren't javelins flying at present. The goblins both fled, one struggling within the net that slowed his steps. Their cries echoed in the stone rooms, making an awful ruckus.
            Like a flow of molten magma, Orklar continued to trundle across the floor behind his door shield with powerful, unstoppable certainty. At one point he leaned back and peeked over the top of the door to assess his progress.
            Putting his shoulder to it once more, he said to Brick, “Getting there! Not to worry, where there’s one goblin, there’ll be plenty more looking to make trouble!”
            The bard vaults over the barricade pulling his whip on the way.
            Nala pouted as the goblins ran off. “Bunch of teases,” she grumped. The little gnome clattered over the wall after Nominis, ready in case any goblins returned. “They’re making enough noise to wake the dead, though.”
            Climbing over the crudely mortared and crenellated half-wall, they found that the layer of filth on the floor, stains on the walls, shabby hides, and a much-used firepit attested to the years of use this room had seen at the hands of creatures not overly concerned with hygiene. A door hung open to one side of the wall, showing a dark passage beyond, from which the goblin shouting came.
            The dwarf grunted and nodded in reply to Orklar. Despite his sometimes brash and loud behavior in combat, he had some knowledge of tactics. Patience often won the battle and saves one's life.
            Of course, one had to know when to run, too!
            lifting his loaded crossbow to his eye to aim the weapon. He leaned past Orklar and swept it across the makeshift battlements and made an annoyed face. "Bah," he complained as no obvious targets revealed themselves. The goblins were whooping and screaming, so they were certainly there. He kept the weapon trained in case one of the filthy creatures popped it's head up.
            Dalian continued to clear the caltrops along the floor in the open as the others moved forward. The raised goblin voices were joined by others, echoing from the passage the goblins had run down.
            Orklar knew he was getting close, so he hazarded one more peek to make sure. When he saw the green-skinned audience had all fled, he grunted with distaste.
            “No sense of humor at all,” he mumbled.
            Working his way into the final stretch, he pushed the door forward until it toppled onto the wall. He planted one foot on it to stop it from bouncing away, and then promptly shifted aside to let the runaway dwarf behind him have full access to the ramp and the subsequent mayhem ahead.
            “Mind, they’ll be ready for us,” he cautioned.
            Brick trundled up and over the wall, planting himself and glancing around at potential targets. Back in melee range, he re-slung his crossbow and drew his twin waraxes. The nearest goblin got a predatory grin as he stalked forward to engage.
            "Takes more effort than I expected," Dal noted aloud as he slapped the remaining caltrops aside with the shod end of his quarterstaff.
            "We have time. They won't be coming back while we're here." The tall elf hung at the back of the group, ready to provide covering fire if necessar as they all clambered over the goblins' wall.
            Afterwards, he complimented Orklar again on the gate-broom-ramp, "I'll say again; clever, that," and moved up to join his fellows on the north side of the bastion wall. Dal fully expected to momentarily be following behind an enthusiastic, berserking dwarf; an equally blood-eager halfing; and a shadowling to confront the goblins' flank.
            "Goblins; traps; mind," he spared in sure-to-be-disregarded warning.
            The elf made a small gesture, urging the quartet of lights far down the passageway to provide warning in case the goblins regained their courage or lost their sense and tried to charge back.
            The dwarf's expression fell with the presentation of an empty room and corridor. But goblin shouts reinforced his grin. They would taste steel soon enough. He wasn't quite foolhardy enough to rush blindly into a likely trapped corridor, so he stepped carefully, eyeing the stonework for malfeasance. Additionally, he tapped each floor space with the back of his axe before stepping on it.
            Nominis moves into the hall, checks the next room by peeking around the corner. If he sees goblins, he motions others to stop.

            A quick peek showed a room with dozens of blunted and broken javelins lying on the cracked cobblestone floor, though a few actually protruded from three crudely sewn human-sized targets hung along the center of the near wall, which vaguely resembled humans or elves. The far third of the room was separated from the rest by a crudely mortared and crenellated half-wall, twin to the last. The area behind the wall was packed with goblins brandishing javelins and wineskins; even as Nominis watched, the one tangled in his net was hauled over the half-wall into their midst.
            "They are not creatures of patience, do we wait them out? Or just storm their position? Dal, we could lead with two figures, one of light and one of Darkness to confuse, frighten and maybe cause them to shoot their boss early?"
            “Hrm, dug in pretty deep by the smell of things,” Orklar said, wrinkling his nose as he crossed the first wall into the goblin splattered warren. “I think they’ll play it slow. Make us traverse their gauntlet.”
            “But stupidity can be a powerful thing,” he added and shrugged. “Maybe we just throw some fistfuls of gold into the open.”
            The long haired elf shook his head. "No reason to traverse anything. We can sit here and shoot them until they decide to rush us. Going to them is foolish when we've got the range."
            Dal nodded, "I'm for that; let me get his loaded."
            Orklar waited until everyone had cleared the first wall, then he eyeballed the door ramp. With a nod, he pulled it over the wall so that it ramped up from this side, in case they needed to beat feet in a hurry. “Anybody speak their tongue?”
            Nala moved up beside Nominis to eye the goblins behind their little fort.
            The moment she stepped into view, half the goblins (all of those who had a view of her, except the one that was still struggling to free itself from Nominis' net) launched their javelins at her. While most of them clattered against the wall and floor, one found its mark. Excited whoops and yells caromed around the echoing hall and rooms.
            Brick grumbled to himself as he once again slung his axes and grabbed his crossbow. He was itching to get his axes to work, but these goblins insisted on building defensive structures. "Nice o' dem ta cluster all together like. All set fer a finger-wiggler ta toss a fireball or what in." His eyes flicked between the group, unsure whether or not anyone would have such a spell.
            Nominis rolls eyes at his companions exposing themselves instead of waiting for some attack plan or at least Orklar with his door-shield. He focuses his will and a shadow dettaches itself from the wall and floats toward the goblins.
            What little light crept down the hall dimmed further in the darkness around the figure. The goblins' triumphant shouts turned to shrieks as the dark figure stalked closer, and they wasted their javelins against the phantom. Of course, the javelins passed clean through the shadow-shape, not preventing its approach in the least.
            Nala made a dismissive snort. “Well, if nobody can cast fireball, I got this. Poor man’s fireball.” She pulled out a flask of alchemist’s fire.
            "Plenty of fingers to wiggle; no fireballs in the repertoire, as of yet," Dal responded to the suggestions and dismissals. "Mundane solutions, this time around." Dal reached over his shoulder to his pack, released a tie from the boiled leather, and lifted his own crossbow free. He set to loading it. His quarterstaff stood aside him, still lit, leaving his hands free to his work.
            Nala ducked back out of sight and then whispered some words. Out among the goblins, in various bits of broken, goblin-like Common, she made various insults about their mothers.
            Goblins were never far from squabbling at the best of times... but when someone began speaking in the common tongue among them, it spurred more confusion than anger.
            Vol stepped out from the corner to answer the javelin volley with a lesser flight of his own. As he nocked his arrow, his bowstring rimed over with frost, and as he drew back the string a dart of solid ice formed on his bow. He launched both missiles as one, the wooden arrow and the other magical one.
            Vol's blue witchlights drifted forward, lightening the darkness made by the shadow-man Nominis had brought forth, but not banishing it completely. The shafts streaked through the air, wood and ice seeking out goblin flesh to pierce. The dim light made it tricky, though; the goblin Vol had targeted managed to move away unexpectedly, and his arrows smashed against the wall behind the goblin.
            Moments later, Dal's incantation formed yet another figure, this one of light, just as the first to crawl over the goblin gate had been. It wandered down the hall, standing by Nominis, Brick, Nala and Vol, finally banishing the darkness near them.
            Orklar stifled a yawn. It had already been quite a day. Considerably more than he invested on the average, though drinking could be hard work too, if done properly. He chuckled to himself.
            As those with ranged capabilities attempted to manage the next leg of the gauntlet, the big orc hefted himself back over the half wall and began collecting caltrops. They might serve a use down the road somewhere. Meepak hovered nearby, a dropped javelin clutched in his little claws.
            Brick grunted and frowned at the situation. "Ain't very effective, are ye lot?" He sighed and shook his head, "durned gobbies ain't makin it easy." He stepped around Nominis and stomped into the room, leveling his crossbow and firing it at the first goblin head that popped up. "Gonna take a real dwarf ta show ye how it be done, aye?" he added with a chuckle. His crossbow fired, he was already starting to put it away to grab his axes.
            Aiming at one of the goblins farthest from the wall, Brick's shot knocked the goblin down despite the others standing in front of it, punching through its armor all the way to its fletching.
            Having demonstrated that he was dangerous, however, the goblins turned against their already-hated traditional foe. A hail of javelins rained down on the dwarf - who weathered every single one of them against his armor. Not one managed to do worse than nick him.
            “Fireball away!” Nala said. She ducked out from around the corner and threw the jar of alchemist’s fire at the gathered goblins, aiming for the goblin in the center of the mass to get the most goblins when the burning liquid shattered. Then she pulled her axe, readying herself to go over the wall.
            The bottle she threw bounced off the alarmed goblin's helmet, crashing open in the firepit and spraying the goblins with fire that ate away at cloth and flesh and wouldn't go out!
            For what it was worth, Dal crowded down into the hall, crossbow now at the ready. At reaching the corner, he walked his glowing Dancing Lights figure out into the open of the practice range and set it to advancing north towards the goblin position.
            Dal risked a partial glance from the covered position. “With them behind that wall, and this far away, I can’t hit them all with anything of effect,” he shook his head, frustrated. “I can rush the wall and probably catch them all, but if it doesn’t work, I’ll be right out there in the open. Why are they also brandishing wineskins?”
            "Wineskins?" Vol aimed and loosed a single arrow as he concentrated on trying to figure out why the goblins might be holding wineskins. "Could they be some sort of container for acid or alchemist's fire?"
            Without the dark to vex him, Vol's aim was considerably better - his arrow hit the goblin in the neck, and it went down, wineskin and all. As if in answer to their questions, the sharp smell of liquor wafted through the dank air.
            Brick grinned predatorily when his bolt hit home. Then the javelins came, but he weathered the assault without even moving. In response, the uninjured Dwarf roared in their general direction. "Now ye just made me mad," he growled as he stalked forward and switched out his crossbow for his favored axes. "Ye stupid gobbies should know bettah than ta anger an armed and armored Dwarf!"
            Rolling his eyes at dwarfs antics, Nominis races after him and quickly bypasses the dwarf. He doesn't have a crossbow, but his weapon of choice can still hurt. And it can reach far. He snaps the whip toward the closest goblin. The whip, made of dark, dark green skin with small, sharp scales cracks ominously as it races toward small humanoids. Short burst of lightning runs the length of the weapon.
            The whip cracked at the head of one of the goblins, but it ducked below the wall, protected.
            By now, the dull goblins had finally realized that the figures of light and shadow couldn't harm them. Impressed by the crackling whip, the goblins farther back turned against Nominis, throwing a few javelins at him. The nearer goblins focused on Brick; goblins knew well the bite of dwarven axes, and were not fond of it. They dropped the javelins in their hands (one of them onto the net it had managed to crawl out of in the interim) and drew short, rusty blades. None of the goblin attacks struck home, however. Up close, the wall afforded Brick nearly as much cover as the goblins, and their javelins were easily batted aside by the quick bard.
            Following the general charge to melee, Dal stepped from around the corner, looking for an opportunity for a clear line of sight to any of the columns of goblins. With Brick, Nominis, and likely Nala all advancing shoulder-to-shoulder, Dal watched for the gaps.
            Seeing Nala hesitate, Dal took the opportunity to fire his crossbow over her head at one of the goblins farther out from the wall - but the angle was bad, and the bolt bounced off the crenelated half-wall.
            Keeping an eye on the door nearby to make sure no reinforcements arrived in an untimely manner, Dal realized that it was barred shut from this side.
            Orklar’s ears perked up as he heard the ensuing ruckus, and he started lumbering back toward the battle front. He cleared the low wall and waved Meepak along to follow.
            “Sounds like the party has finally started,” he said. Moving back down the hallway, Orklar drew his heavy mace and peered carefully around the corner with his good eye.
            Meepak looked quite skittish, jumping at every goblin shout. Glancing back, Orklar could see that he'd taken up a position at the end of the hall, no doubt ready to run should the party be overrun. He'd gathered up a quiver of the small javelins, though, so he wasn't completely unarmed.
            Brick didn't even pause. Even with weapons in hand, he clambered up the wall, luckily being shorter than he so he was able to gain leverage to push up on. He stood upon the makeshift ramparts, now taller than Orklar. He met the eyes of the goblin in front of him and grinned toothily. He pointed at it with an axe, "You die first," he growled.
            The goblin was either too drunk or too stupid to know when it was looking at death. It made an obscene gesture at him and jabbered something that was probably an insult, swiping its rusty blade at his legs. Sparks flew off his leg guards, and flakes of rust fell off the blade, but the sword found no purchase. Likewise, none of the rest of the goblins targeting Brick and Nominis were able to strike true.
            Nala gave a defiant roar as she drew her axe and charged straight at the goblins, jumping up on the barricade and swinging at the foremost goblin. Her greataxe crashed through its defenses, embedding itself in the goblin's chest. It gargled blood as she kicked it off her axe.
            Orklar slowly lumbered around the corner and snorted laughter at seeing Brick’s display. He shook his head in disbelief. “Dwarves,” he said.
            “A bit of fresh air might clear your vision,” the big half-Orc said to Vol, muttering a few words of power and laying a pair of fingers on the elf. The clean, crisp air which raced between them blew Vol’s hair back a bit and did clear his mind for a moment.
            “Shoot one between his legs,” Orklar chuckled, nodding toward Brick. “Go on, I dare ya.” Then his face scrunched up a bit as he noticed the barricaded door across the range. That was an oddity, braced from this side like that. Might be they were trapping a dragon behind such a door.
            Vol laughed, his spirits buoyed by the unexpected freshening breeze and the idea of a trick shot. "I'll deny I did it on purpose if it sticks in his backside." That said, the elf pulled out a new arrow, nocked, took a breath as he drew back he string, then fired as smoothly and calmly as he might have on a practice range- aiming at a goblin's head right through the dwarf's stout legs.
            Brick felt an unpleasant tingle as Vol's arrow whipped by between his legs, just a tad high. The goblin in front of him, who had ducked low behind the wall at the right moment, made a grimace in unintended sympathy.
            At the surprisingly uncomfortable passage of Vol's arrow, Brick stiffened and emitted an uncharacteristic squeak. His eyes turned behind him, not with the expected ire, but with a look of pleading. "Oi, watch dem arrows. Me twig'n'berries ain't yer target."
            His ire was directed ahead at the goblins. He turned back to his target and growled as he swung both axes. Still a bit off-balance due to the near-miss, the goblin was able to fend off his attacks, but at least it stopped grinning. The goblins pressed the attack, but were unable to either land a blow on Brick or spear Nala with their javelins.
            Nala cackled as she eviscerated the goblin, blood and gore flying from her axe. “Got one!” she called as she slid to the next closest green-skinned vermin and slashed at him. “And why are you carrying around twigs and berries in your pants, dwarf?” The narrow wall was no hindrance at all to the nimble gnome, and she danced across its top, cutting down the goblin Brick had been fighting with.
            Orklar had will enough to stifle his laughter, but he held no doubt that the recounting later would give him ample opportunity to revisit his mirth. He gave Vol a good natured pat on the back and a chuckle as he walked across the makeshift target range.
            With the front line fully engaged and the goblins otherwise occupied, Orklar eyed the barred door as he moved toward it. Upon reaching the barricaded doorway, he sought a means to clear whatever obstruction was keeping it secured. It looked to be a simple matter to remove the bar that held the door shut.
            "Don't open it until we're clear! We don't need some beast they keep caged attacking us from behind!" shouts Nominis as he whips the goblin next to Brick The goblin ducked below the crenelations on the wall, which took the sharp snap of Nominis' crackling whip. Chips of mortar flew, but no blood.
            Dal slung his crossbow back into its scabbard and took his waiting quarterstaff back to hand. He had no safe shot to take, and felt – as Orklar apparently did – that the party had the goblins well in hand.
            “Have to agree; odd that it’d be barred from this side,” Dal cautioned Orklar, echoing Nom’s warning. Dal moved up behind Nala. Should any of the goblins jump the wall, he could take a swing with his quarterstaff and protect the flank. Otherwise, he bided his time and tried to remain observant. He brought his glowing Dancing Lights figure forward over the goblin position for better illumination of the combat.
            The two figures, one of light, one of darkness, warred while the party and the goblins fought; in the end, their powers seemed to do no more than cancel each other out, leaving Vol's blue witchlights to eerily illuminate the scene. Shadows danced back and forth between the combatants jagged and swift as they mocked the living bodies that cast them.
            The lanky archer took a few steps into the room as he calmly drew another arrow and launched it at the goblin on the right. Another arrow zipped by Brick, but thunked into the shield of the goblin in the back. It gawped at the near-miss, and edged toward the door at the back of the room.
            Brick scowled at the goblin that somehow dodged his axes. Then watched as Nala dispatched the durned thing on him. "Bah, I prefer me feet onna ground, not balanced on dis 'ere rickety-arse wall," he made an excuse for his poor performance so far. He growled and turned his attention to the goblin on his right. He didn't waste time with any witty banter, simply swinging his axes. This time he gashed the goblin's shoulder, and their crazy babble turned frightened - their morale had been well and truly broken. All of them screaming and hollering, they trampled the fallen as two opened the doors they stood near, while the one facing Brick withdrew through the door to the party's left.
            “Made some space!” Nala said, hopping down from the wall, kicking aside the fallen goblin at her feet as she swung her axe with evident joy at the next goblin. “Come join the party, you lollygaggers!” With a mighty swipe, she cut down the nearest goblin. The last one remaining in the room looked over its shoulder, paralyzed with fear in this moment.
            Orklar cast a sidelong glance toward Dalian and Nominis, clearly disapproving of their tactical hesitancy. Not every door in an ancient citadel held death and dismay behind it. Granted the odds were in their favor, but Orklar never cared for odds very much.
            He snorted and redirected his attention toward Vol, once more bringing a breath of clarity to he who had suffered the worst of the poison gas attack.
            Then he turned back to the door and rapped on it with his mace thrice. “Hellooo?” he said, leaning an ear toward the barred portal.
            Muffled shouts greeted his ear through the door. They didn't sound like goblin shouts.
            Nominis drew his rapier and joined Brick on the wall, surveying the carnage.
            Dal stood frustrated, wanting to contribute somehow but certain he’d just get in the way if he tried to press forward. Similarly, any spell he could throw to help he’d have to safely get past Nala and Brick, and standing as they were upon that wall he had no clear shot. The goblins weren’t faring well, with further belied any sense of urgency to try something desperate to get involved in the fight.
            Orklar hadn’t opened the barred door; Dal counted it well and good to keep the battles in bits and pieces; but he’d moved off a bit to observe. Dal took note of the floor and threshold of the barred door, wondering if he’d note claw marks or anything he might recognize as dragon-damage. Dal had a guess that as prepared as the goblins were for this particular gauntlet, the other side of that door either held prisoners they’d use for target practice, or some nasty beastie they could send down the back gauntlet as a further defense; something they hadn’t yet had time to spring with the party’s advance.
            Nominis jumps from the low wall into the mess of goblin bodies. Vol jogged to the wall as the others pursued the fleeing goblins, not bothering to fire at the poor creatures' backs.
            Brick grunted in satisfaction as his axes finally found purchase. The goblins weren't lasting long. While he would bluster about his disappointment in not taking more of them out himself, he did quietly appreciate the support of a group. In the Guard back home, he had to rely on his squadmates. He would here, too. He dropped off the wall, the high ground no longer necessary, and stalked to the lone retreating goblin. "Bye bye, gobbie," he grinned as he swung his axe at it.
            The heavy dwarven axe gashed across the goblin's face, dropping it on the spot. It lay in a pile on the other goblin by the door. Glancing to his left, Brick saw that the last remaining goblin was fleeing through a door in the room beyond. Its shouts echoed in a large space.
            “Hee hee!” Nala giggled in glee, goblin blood streaking her face and pink hair as she rushed at the remaining goblin and swung her axe. Her first target down, she swerved to run after the fleeing goblin. Not quite fast enough to catch it while loaded down, she nevertheless noted, as she ran, the stacks of ill-made barrels, crates and boxes in the first room she ran through. They nearly reached the ceiling on either side of her, and several of the barrels were marked with Dethek runes. In the room beyond, she could see firelight flickering - and smell the smoke that hazed that hall. The goblin kept running and hollering, though - apparently the hall wasn't his destination.
            “Coward!” Nala shouted after the goblin, giving chase, barely noticing the stacks of crates and barrels stacked to the ceiling in this hallway, solely focused on getting that last kill.
            The haze of smoke stung her eyes as she pursued the screaming goblin into the hall beyond the storage room. A double row of marble columns carved with entwining dragons marched the length of the hall, doors peeking forth along the walls.
            Orklar watched the tide of battle surge in the right direction and took that as his cue. He lifted the crossbar out of its brackets and set it down against the adjacent wall.
            Under the wide bar, hidden from view before, a lock came into view. Typical.
            The muffled shouting continued from behind the door.

            Orklar hunched over and cast his eye at the locked mechanism. He stood up with a creaking of armor and joints and said, “Barred and locked. Hrmph.”
            He turned and hobbled toward the carnage, swinging his bulk over the low wall with indelicate ease. There he began pawing and rolling over fallen goblins, looking for any kind of key ring or jingling sound which might serve to open the locked door. “Key should be close, shouldn’t it?” he mumbled to himself as he worked.
            "Wee Fury, wait!" Nominis rushes after the gnome, but does not hamper her progress.
            "Oi!" Brick shouted at Nala as he idly wiped the goblin's ichor off of his axe with it's own ratty clothes. "Ye wanna come back 'ere a'fore dat thing leads ye inta a trap or worse!" He glanced to the other doors in the room, including the one Orklar was attempting to access. He made a face and grumbled to the world at large. "Bah, barbarians." He shook his head and trotted after the little one.
            Brick hurried after the irate gnome, reaching out to grab her - but she slipped through his fingers. Meanwhile the goblin darted to the end of the smoke-hazed hall, throwing open the door at the end and shouting something in its nasty language. Other voices answered it - deeper ones than the goblin's high-pitched hollering.
            Dal climbed over the barricade, intending to join the rush into goblin territory. He was wary of leaving their flank open, though, so he went to the north door and leaned out into the hall enough to look left and right, holding his quarterstaff out for the scant illumination it might provide. If they had to fall back, he’d at least like to be able to recognize this stretch of hall.
            The short stretch showed an unremarkable corridor, with doors across from him and at the far end. Dal considered the three goblins; well, four; down and scattered about the room. He was conflicted; he knew that given the chance the goblins would stick them in the back. Dal had his ironshod quarterstaff and it wouldn’t take much to ensure each of the goblins was well and truly dead. It just seemed so… brutal to consider. He crouched nearest the goblin sprawled in the north door, checking to see if it still drew breath, and hoping it did not.
            The small pile of two goblins that he stood over was a mess, and not just because of the blood. The goblins weren't hygeinic at the best of times, and if that was a criteria, times had been hard on these goblins.
            Taking care not to breathe too deeply, Dal felt for a pulse on the goblin on top of the pile - and found it weak, but there. The goblin was still bleeding, but there was yet a chance that it might make it.
            The tall archer, hanging back near the rear of the group, looked curiously at Dal as he checked the fallen goblin for signs of life. "Watch your ear, it's likely to bite if it's still breathing." Vol turned and off-handedly fired an arrow into the closest of the fallen goblins.
            The arrow pierced its eye socket and sank in to the point that it struck the back of the goblin's helm from the inside. There was no chance that goblin was rising again, short of as the living dead.
            Meepak scurried up to the half-wall and over it, a goblin shortsword in hand and goblin armor on his small body. He looked at the remaining goblins with narrowed eyes.
            <"Well you have done,"> Dal heard him say. <"Filth these goblins are. To kill them, I will help.">

            Nala’s eyes watered as she hit the next room, filled with hazy smoke. She saw the goblin stop ahead and yank open a door and grinned. “Gotcha!” Nala said, sprinting down the hall to the goblin and swinging her axe mightily.
            The lucky goblin managed to catch her axe on his shield, where it sank deeply into the wood. She had to kick the shield to get it free again. The goblin's bulbous eyes (which weren't watering as much as hers) flicked about; then it had the temerity to grin at her, and gabble something in its garbage language. Either it thought help was on the way, or it was even more stupid than it looked.
            Nominis calls after charging barbarian "Wee Fury, enough! The pride doesn't Split in the middle of the hunt! Return! Weakest fall first, but even the strongest bull can be felled if isolated! " He follows her, tribe mates shouldn't be abandoned, but running like this is pure fully and death looms large.
            "Brick! Get the others! Or call them at least!" Nominis adds as he advances
            The dwarf grumbled and glanced at the rapidly advancing barbarian. "Aye..." he uttered slowly before stomping back towards the others. "Oi! Git yer arses in gear! Tha gnome ran off ta git herself kilt. Unless ye can come help!" He then turned on his heel and stomped back towards Nominis and Nala.
            Orklar, who had been searching and sifting through goblin possessions, had come up with a few things in the meantime: a silver flask of dwarven make, filled with something that stank so badly, it could only be goblin liquor... and a sturdy iron key.
            Brick's urging about Nala and Vol's arrow to the goblin set Dal to motion; he cracked the goblin at his feet on the skull with his quarterstaff, left the others as they were, and moved west to follow Brick's call. The goblin's head made an alarming crunching sound under Dal's staff-butt.
            Chaos had erupted beyond the door the goblin that Nala was chasing had opened. Shrieks and yells sounded in the dark, and in the gloom Nala and Nominis could see little shapes running to and fro... and a few larger ones as well. Worst of all, more goblins came pouring towards the door!
            The goblin she was facing off against slowly circled her, or at least began to, moving to put the new goblins at her flank. She fended off its attacks easily - but soon, even she might have more goblins at hand than she could chew.
            Nominis noticed that there was a door to his left, beyond which he could hear goblin shouts. It had braces for a bar, but there was no bar present.

            Orklar smiled as he held up the iron key, but his face quickly soured as the butchering of the fallen goblins began. His ears picked up the shouts of trouble ahead…far ahead from the sounds of it, and he cast a longing look back at the locked door. He grunted and stuffed the key in his belt.
            “Sounds like they need some support,” he said. “Leave the butchering to the lizard. We’ll check that door as soon as we can.” The last sounding more like a promise to himself.
            Vol nodded. He quickly and rather violently yanked his arrow out of the goblin's skull, nodding at their little companion. "Kill the rest before you follow." The mellow elf's tone was surprisingly cool about the murderous command. Meepak cocked his head at the (to him) unintelligible command, but he already seemed intent on disposing of the rest of the downed goblins.
            Orklar lumbered around the corner and into the cluttered chamber beyond. He scanned ahead into the smoky distance as he slung his heavy mace. Then he looked around the immediate area for a sizable crate or barrel that he could heft and move. To his satisfaction, the walls were stacked and lined with barrels, crates and boxes in a disorderly mess, some of them marked with Dethek runes, burnt in messy goblin fashion.
            After a moment Vol rushed after Orklar, his long legs quickly making up the short head start.
            Looking quickly once more around them, Nominis tries to block the door opening to their flank with whatever comes to his hands. There was nothing lying about to jam into the braces - but Nominis had his whip! While Nala hesitated, he reached out to tie the braces on the door and wall together with it, only to have the goblin by the door stab at him viciously with its shortsword. It wasn't unexpected, and the bard easily avoided injury and shoved the goblin back with a foot as he finished tying his knots.
            Dal kept his comments to himself. His mien was resolute, if a bit frustrated, but needs of the moment won out. He harbored similar tactical concerns as had been voiced at being so stretched out as a party. Guided by his quarterstaff’s light, he moved west into the storage room. The smoke in the room beyond brought him up short – if the party were to be trapped in that room, could they breathe? What was producing such a quantity of smoke?
            Dal checked the doorway from the storage room to the smoke-filled hall, needing to reassure himself the doorway was not rigged to be able to close on its own and lock. If so, he surmised something to block the door open was close at hand, as he eyed the scattered supplies and containers in the room. From what he could tell, it was the torches lining the walls themselves that were emitting all that smoke. It made him cough a bit, but didn't obscure his view too badly. He didn't think the door was rigged to close or lock on its own, but glancing about, he easily spotted a crate that could suit his purpose, should he wish to block the door open. It was filled with things better left unrecognized, but it was the work of a moment to tip them out, whatever they were.
            Nominis calls the the group as he sees them dithering near the entrance. "Hurry up with preparations, we won't hold here for long! Wee Fury, we need to stop those goblins from spilling in here! Or retreat back, choose quickly!"
            Brick narrowed his eyes, partly at the eye-watering smoke, but also partly at the assembling goblins at the other end of the corridor. If they weren't careful, they'd be rapidly overrun. "Gotta block tha door," he muttered before breaking into a run.
            Nala looked into the other room at the darkened figures and scowled slightly. Stupid goblins! The goblin she chased was circling around, so she turned and slashed at him. “Die, you piece of poo!” she growled as the others scrambled to close the door.
            The goblin facing Nala and Nominis managed to break through Nala's defense and give her a shallow cut, and it made a grotesque face, which on reflection might have been a sign of glee, or maybe it was having some kind of cramp. Then a howling pack of goblins began to pour through the door. The first didn't notice Brick, jumping straight at Nala, but she booted it in the face and it landed clutching at its pug nose. The next one, though, took the brunt of Nala's ire, and Brick's as well. Between the two, the spray of blood was impressive, and the goblin fell to the stone floor instantly - but more goblins used the time to boil forth, and between them the valiant gnome fell.
            The goblins crowed excitedly as they rushed out to surround Brick, their scratchy voices echoing in the large, smoky hall - and the voices of the bigger goblins behind them were nearly drowned out. Two ugly black arrows flew at Nominis, but he caught them on his dragon-shield, having expected them as soon as he heard those deeper voices.
            Orklar hefted one of the barrels with a grunt and began shuffling toward the smoky combat. He shifted the weight and sidestepped as necessary to allow teammates to scurry about him. But the half-orc moved with a consistent, immutable momentum, as if the barrel were one more simple burden to address.
            Once through the doorway, he stepped off to his left and set the barrel down between the pillar and the wall, adjusting its position once and then nodding with approval at the cover it offered.
            Nominis lets go of the whip, hoping the knot will hold, and summoned the shadows forth.
            They came at his bidding, creeping from the floor and walls to cling to the very people casting them. The cries of the goblins became alarmed, but the press kept the cowardly creatures from withdrawing outright.
            The doorway Nominis had tied shut shuddered as something pounded into it and rebounded, not having expected it to stay closed.
            Satisfied the hazy hall wasn’t some sort of direct, intentional trap, Dal let the door be as it may. He threw a fresh Dancing Lights down to the far end of the hallway, the luminous figure again stepping into view to cast light and illuminate the fracas. Dal then advanced into the hall, himself, holding his quarterstaff in a two-handed guard position across his chest. He veered to the south, shifting up against the wall and behind the columns, ready to use them for cover if need be.
            Vol, seeing the danger Brick was in, sent an arrow flying at one of the goblins surrounding him, but in his care not to strike the dwarf, he aimed too high, and the goblin was only startled as the arrow whipped past it.
            Nala whimpers and bleeds.
            Brick's eyes narrowed as the goblins poured forth through the open portal. He had hoped the others would have run up with him to help bottleneck the door, but they weren't quite the well-oiled machine yet. "Be usin some 'elp 'ere, aye?" He shouted as he became surrounded. He held his axes out to block the expected incoming blows, continually spinning in place so he could watch them all.
            Brick's whirling defense did the job admirably - the goblins were kept at bay by his swift axes. But while they couldn't do more than poke and threaten with their rusty shortswords, he wasn't quite able to strike them, either.
            Nominis suffered a cut from the goblin that had taken down Nala, and its gibbering reached new heights of excitement as it motioned for the goblin standing over her to join it in killing the bard. The door Nominis had tied shut rattled as something tried to open it, but held firm. Goblins shouted on the far side, muffled but angry.
            Then the big goblins came through the open door at the end of the hall.
            Ugly as their natures, they stalked through with more calm and certainty than the excitable smaller goblins. The first one sneered at Nominis as it approached, whirling its longsword - which was, if possible, just as mean-looking as the hobgoblin itself. Still, the canny bard was able to dodge its thrusts, and its sneer turned to rage in a heartbeat.
            The second hobgoblin to come forth edged around the combatants, dodging blows to take cover behind a pillar, behind from which it peered through the hazy hall. Its gimlet eyes fell on Dalian, and a moment later, an arrow hit the pillar that he stood behind.
            The next two similarly shot at Nominis and Brick when they emerged from the dark, but neither was able to target the moving adventurers properly.
            Orklar’s eye squinted as he saw one less head he favored bobbing around in the melee. He grunted and forestalled the task of fortifying to advance. Crossing the hall with his lopsided gate, he bobbed and weaved around projectiles and obstacles. Drawing up behind the bulk of a pillar, he prepared to launch himself into the throng, unless of course, the battle first came to him.
            Nominis knows his limits and being in melee isn't really his forte. He would much prefer the ambush situation. Still, drawing upon reserves of strength and magic he didn't even know he had, he remains close to Nala and Brick. Strange, how these strangers pull him into more danger than ever he did it willingly in The Shadow and yet he remains to fight with them. Little warrior especially pulled at something within his damaged memory, something familiar, known...which is strange since he's neither gnome nor the barbarian.
            But one cannot refute the evidence, he has something of the Lion Pride in himself. And other compatriots are coming to their rescue.
            He is both thrilled by this new danger - he is no longer alone that he has to take the safe route - and frightened for his life. After everything he survived, to be brought low by goblins is...disappointing. Ignoring little pests, he pulls his shield closer to his body, pulls what magic remains to him and pointed his hand toward the bigger threat. At his gesture, the floor beneath the goblins and hobgoblins nearest the door became inexplicably slippery. Three of them went down in a yelling heap, while one managed to keep its feet under it.
            "Whatever you have left, now's the time. Clear them up before the door opens!" Nominis shouts to his remote fighting companions.
            Dal considered calling for Nala et al to fall back; they'd be overwhelmed in this hall; but Dal was certain he'd heard several cries for her to do just that, so he didn't contribute one more entreaty to be disregarded. Personally, he hadn't come all this way and undertaken what he had to be overrun and killed by a few brash actions. And Dal was definitely feeling in over his head right now. Despite his naivete, Dal possessed a sharp mind that he'd begun to hone to see patterns and clarity where challenge and adversity threatened to overwhelm focus, and he naturally drew upon that, now. He would not make a foolhardy stand, but he would not abandon his new-found friends, not while the situation could be saved. He felt the critical moment; the critical opportunity; had not yet come and gone. The trick would be recognizing it as it approached and keeping it from slipping by.
            Dal pressed forward again, his stride determined but measured, ending again behind the columns for cover. The splay of goblins was illuminated by Dal's refreshed Dancing Lights, and the shadows about the hall suddenly wrenched chaotically as Dal sent his lit quarterstaff hurling into the combat to knock at least one more goblin out. Success or not, his quarterstaff continued its whirl to reverse direction and return to Dal's waiting hands.
            The goblin, turning to follow Nominis' retreat from within their trap, caught sight of the glowing staff in time to deflect it with its wooden shield painted with crude pictograms. Turning fully, it squinted into the, for it, painful light, and raised its rusty cleaver, taking a step toward him.
            Seeing an archery duel in the offing, the lanky elf grinned and moved closer to the fray. His bow kindled with a faint flames as he drew his first arrow. He nocked, pulled, sighted, and drew in one smooth motion. The air around his arrow swirled with cold and coalesced into a solid shaft of ice; both arrows streaked out at the closest of the hobgoblin archers. The arrow glanced off the hobgoblin's armor - but the ice around it exploded in the hobgoblin's face. Astonished, it bellowed and shook its head, beaded braids rattling and blood oozing from where shards of ice had buried themselves in its now even uglier mug.
            The Dwarf growled at his foes as he backed into the corner. At least now he wouldn't be flanked, though he still faced three of the damned goblins. He watched as the hobgoblins filtered out, and he became more and more separated from the Barbarian they had chased after. Hopefully she wasn't dead, though he could no longer hear her shouts, nor could he see her through the throng of goblins. He couldn't keep wondering about their companion, for he was still hard pressed. He kept his blades working, keeping the goblin spears at bay, searching for openings he could take advantage of.
            When the goblins went sprawling, tangled in their own shadows, he saw his awaited opening. He gashed one of them as it squirmed on the slippery floor, and when it tried to rise, he cut it down; it fell face-first on the flagstones, its shortsword falling from nerveless fingers.
            Meanwhile, the other goblins managed to regain their feet by clinging to each other - only to slip and fall again as soon as they shoved away, dragging the lone hobgoblin that had remained standing down with them. The noises they made were disgusting, even without translation.
            The female that Vol had shot snarled as it drew its arrow, taking aim at the grinning elf. Its arrow punched into him with a shocking pain, and Vol, already weakened by the poison gas and coughing in the smoky room, felt his vision narrow.
            Behind the goblins, the din from the goblin nest was frightening, but the goblins within seemed chiefly concerned with panicking - for now.

            Shocked at the sudden pain, Vol nearly dropped his next arrow on the floor. He managed to keep his spasming fingers away from his quiver as he staggered to cover behind one of the stone pillars.
            Orklar reached out and braced Vol as the elf stumbled into him. Then the half-Orc spun him almost violently, single eye ablaze with anger. He kept a hold of his mace with thumb and finger, but the other three digits wrapped around the arrow shaft where it stuck out of his wounded comrade.
            “They’ll not have you yet, Longshanks!” he growled. “Sorry for this.”
            The cold of the grave seeped with numbing ferocity through Vol, and when the elf thought his vision would fail utterly, Orklar pulled the arrow from his body. As he did, the frigid magic withdrew along its length and knit the flesh together cleanly. The pain was both exquisite and exhilarating.
            As warmth flooded back into Vol, Orklar shoved him behind the pillar and said, “Back at it now!” The big half-Orc then turned that angry eye upon the offending goblin hulk and crashed toward it in a hurtling mass of armor and flesh. The goblins quailed before his terrifying visage - but the hobgoblins did not, and managed to keep order.
            Keeping his dark cloak on, Nominis lashes out with his tattoo, targeting the big brute next to him. "More spells and arrows, less moving around!"
            He remains in his place, not happy with the position, but keeping goblins in or near his grease patch as much as possible and not giving them space to get out of it. Maybe he could pull several toward his companions, but they must be near by now. They don't sound like they abandoned them, but very little real effect is seen by now. One arrow and one magic arrow. They needed space clearing and fast. "Come on, guys, Brick is trapped, use the advantage while they are on grease. Brick! Keep swinging!"
            Stepping back into the thick of the goblins near Nala, Nominis tried to prevent them from having anywhere to get out of the slick spot his spell had created. His lion tattoo lashed out, giving the hobgoblin archer that had shot Vol a nasty rake with its shadow-paw.
            Dal gritted his teeth in frustration; the goblins kept advancing. Arcane words spat forth and he cast a pointed finger to the hobgoblin archer to his northwest. Columns offered poor cover from magecraft. One missile was all he had time to spare. He gripped his quarterstaff defensively and moved a bit further back and to the northeast. In his mind, he considered a desperate gambit from his repertoire of spells, but he’d have to be in the thick of it for it to be effective. Not just yet, not while they could still whittle the goblins at range.
            His fizzing magic corkscrewed through the smoky chamber, whizzing around the pillar over Orklar's head and smashing into the braided hobgoblin. It clutched at this new wound, dropping its bow.
            Gasping for air as the sudden cold seeped out of him as quickly as it had rushed in, Vol just nodded and continued his move for cover. Just before reaching the safety of the pillar he turned and snapped off a shot at the archer who had nearly killed him. Still rattled by his near-death experience, his aim was a tiny bit off, and the arrow skipped along the wall rather than hitting his target.
            Brick allowed himself a small smile as his foe dropped. But it was a brief expression as there were still numerous enemies around and he couldn't let his guard drop. He did, though, press his attack more ferociously than he had before. He focused on the two goblins on him and his axes whirled as he looked for holes in their limited defenses.
            The goblin fallen to his side only just realized it had met death before Brick took it out with his axe. The other goblin harassing him became more cautious, avoiding his whirling axe-blades, and Brick took a step toward the slipping hobgoblins - right into Nominis' greasy patch. But he wasn't a dwarf for nothing! Firming his legs, he kept his feet under him.
            The clank of metal alerted him before the others, and he glanced over his shoulder into the shanty-like goblin town to see another handful of armed goblins racing his way through the panicking mass of goblin civilians!
            The ugly little goblin that had fled from the goblin's practice range was out for revenge for the injury it had sustained, and unwittingly aided Nominis' intention by crowding after him, blocking the way out of the grease for the hobgoblins. The goblins yelled threateningly and traded a few blows with Brick and Nominis, but none could land a telling blow - not even the one that scurried over to menace Dalian.
            The hobgoblins in the grease continued to bellow at the other goblins, but in the heat of battle none heeded them. At least, none of their allies. Nominis took advantage of the nearest hobgoblin's woes to rake it with his tattoo's leonine claws.
            The other standing free took a shot at Brick, but the arrow got stuck in his chainmail. The one facing Orklar and Nominis, though, had had enough. Its face and chest were bleeding, its arms and legs were wounded, its braids were stuck to its face, and Orklar was making an angry face at it, threatening with his mace. Drawing its sword, it stepped back over its dropped longbow, warily threatening all around it - and opened the door behind it, clearly intending to flee.
            Fleeing was fine with Orklar. Fleeing encouraged others to do the same. What wasn’t fine was goblins spilling into the second rank. That he couldn’t abide. So the big half-Orc swung his attention from the retreating hobgoblin and barreled towards the middle of the chamber.
            He emerged from around the pillar with his arm already cocked, mace held high, and he descended on one of the goblin’s menacing Nominis. The giant ball of metal which came crashing down was the same size as the goblin’s head, and Orklar wanted to see what would happen if the two should meet.
            The goblin most decidedly did not hold the same curiosity, and it scrambled back with a yell as Orklar's mace swooshed past where its head had just been. The goblin pointed at the half-orc and jabbered in confusion to its comrades, though what it was confused about was anyone's guess.
            Nominis keeps the pressure, attacking the hobgoblin pressed against the door. Hoping he could get it before the doors open. "Brick, you're taking space in which goblin could fall!"
            Looking briefly to the right, he spots the half-orc hobbling toward the melee. "Took you long enough, Undying One. Help yourself to those behind me. And keep those arrows coming! Dalian, can you do something more impressive than single magic arrow?! We need some blasting!"
            Pressed from nearly all sides, he wasn't able to lunge far enough to reach the braided hobgoblin with more than a light scratch along its armor with his shadow-claws. It snarled at him, but he knew fear when he saw it, and he saw it in the hobgoblin's eyes. It had probably never been this badly wounded before.
            Dal stepped out of immediate reach of the goblin threatening him, then threw his quarterstaff back into the goblin’s face. He couldn’t help sparing a quick over-his-shoulder glance at the door to his east.
            The goblin wasn't expecting that. Dal's staff conked it right in the forehead, and it went down like a small pile of bricks. Summoning superhuman reserves within him, Dal spun about and flung the staff at another goblin, who heard it whipping toward it through the air - and turned just in time for it to smash the creature's nose even flatter. The goblin dropped its sword and clapped its hand to its face, howling.
            The tall archer paused as the chaos gave him a moment's respite and sent another pair of missiles at the hobgoblins. Ice coalesced into another dangerous dart as he loosed at the enemy archer.
            His arrow took Braids down before she could escape - so suddenly that the icy missile right behind it flew over her head as she fell. The goblin that had been behind her looked up in confusion as it was pattered with chunks of snow and ice.
            Leaving a goblin alive behind him probably wasn't the greatest move, but Brick had another target in mind. He grinned toothily at the hobgoblins looming over him before hacking his axes in their direction. "Dunna mind tha axe wieldin dwarf, aye. Jus' wadin through yer ranks!"
            His first few swings missed, parried by the hobgoblin's sword even though it lay flat on its back, and it sneered at him - but then he got into his rythym, and began hacking with increasing speed and power. The hobgoblin roared, louder and louder, as it became increasingly difficult to keep up with the two gleaming dwarven waraxes, doing what they were made for.
            Chop chop chop. Then it was over, the big goblin abruptly silenced, and Brick calmly took a step over its prone body to stand over Nala, dripping axes raised. The supernaturally slick floor didn't bother him in the least.
            Shaken at the loss of two of their biggest fellows, and one more lying on its back flailing, the smaller goblins drew back. One of them managed to strike Brick from where it was hiding behind one of the pillars, while the one Dal had whacked in the face stepped away from Nominis to reclaim its dropped sword, tears mixing with the blood on its face from its broken stub-nose.
            Seeing an opportunity to escape what had turned into an unexpected bloodbath on the goblins' part, the last one near Nominis edged toward the door the braided hobgoblin had opened, keeping the bard at bay with a few swipes of its rust-caked sword.
            The goblins "trapped" behind the magical greasy spot (now piled with downed goblins) jeered and yelled at Brick, halfheartedly throwing javelins that never quite struck him as they shoved each other to be in the back rank.
            The big goblins, too, seemed less interested in continuing the fight now. The one beside Brick in the greasy spot finally managed to regain its feet, despite taking a series of bad cuts from the dwarf as it struggled to rise. The one in the corner proved the most dangerous. With nowhere to go, it dropped its bow and drew its longsword with the ring of steel. Pointing at the door Nominis had tied shut, it howled something at the two goblins trying to hide behind the pillars.
            Then it carved deep furrows in Brick's flesh, its sword snaking out with desperate fury.
            Even in their panic to escape, these cornered rats had vicious teeth.

            And just like that, Dal could almost feel the battle turn. The goblins were down to two hobgoblin heavies, and the goblins were once again mostly confined to the western end of the hall. Dal caught sight of more goblins massing near the door waiting to join the fray. Brick was still in the midst of the worst of it, standing over Nala, and anything Dal could throw to help, there, would like as not take out Brick as well. Brick couldn’t move out of the midst without trying to drag Nala, but that’d put his back to a flurry of blows from all the hobgoblins and goblins about him he was trying to keep at bay. Two options, then; Dal’s mind ran through the possibilities.
            “Nominis! Shift northeast, up against the wall! Brick, hack away, but then step into where Nominis vacates!”
            If they both did it, Dal had a punch that might take out both hobgoblins and at least one more of the goblins. If they didn’t, he could at least take down the two to the south and move the battle line further west while preventing them from opening that door.
            The bard has no problem with the order as long as there is some plan behind it. He moves as instructed, trying to finish off the goblin as he goes. The goblin took the brunt of his shadow-claws on its painted shield, leaving scores across the leering goblin face drawn there. Nominis could feel his hold on the shadows dragging at the goblins weaken; soon they would return to their natural places and leave the goblins free.
            “Clear me a path to that GNOME!” Orklar added his own roar to the confusion. “Vol! Nom!” he leveled his mace at the northern most goblin. “That one needs to go!”
            The tall archer agreed, shifting his aim to the specified target. He took a breath, chest hitching only briefly at the lingering pain from his wounds, and murmured a few words under his breath. Instead of ice coalescing from the air, sizzling acid effervesced into being, a second arrow of burning, eye watering green goop. He waited for a break in the fray then loosed. His arrow struck its mark, and the goblin didn't even have time to scream at the sting of acid before dropping.
            Brick knew a commander when he heard it, though his grunt was half in reply to Dal, half in response to the wound he just received from the hobgoblin. He gritted his teeth and kept his axes moving, though more in a defensible fashion. Once he felt safe to do so and Nominis made way, he stepped away from the Gnome. He was loathe to do so, as who knew what the goblins would do to her.
            The big half-Orc held his ground for the moment, waiting for his opening. As the company shifted their timing and began working together, Orklar grunted in surprise as Dal shoved past him.
            Then as the chamber exploded with light, Orklar made his move.
            The hobgoblins (and one of the smaller goblins) stared dumbfounded at the dazzling display of lights that Dal flashed at them; then, as one, their eyes rolled back and they fell over, jaws open and drooling.
            Orklar hurried forward (as well as he could) and scooped up Nala.
            The lone goblin standing in the smoky hall turned and opted for the better part of valor, streaking back the way the party had come - straight toward where Meepak was finishing off the fallen goblins. Taken aback by the apparent deaths of their most powerful goblins, the ones wedged in the doorway at the end of the smoky hall shrieked and thumped their shields and rattled their javelins at the party, without actually provoking them by attacking. They especially seemed to be booing Orklar.
            The tall archer drew his bow with no arrow at the string. Another bolt of acid sizzled out of clear air and he loosed it at the goblins. He shot high, aiming at the stone over their heads so the burning acid would drip down onto the floor in front of the cat-calling little monsters. "Run, if you have any brains!" The goblins drew back, hissing like coals with water poured on them; one actually turned to run.
            Brick grinned widely as the hobgoblins fell. They would be simple to take care of at this point. He considered the goblins making noise at the door, but they were just making show at this point. No real threat as of yet. But he kept his eyes locked on them, a murderous grin on his face. He stepped fearlessly into the greasy spot that had vexed the hobgoblins - and his luck ran out. His feet skidded from under him, and he landed flat on his back.
            There was a moment of stunned silence from the goblins, followed by loud guffaws. Still, they kept their distance as the dwarf laboriously regained his feet.
            The goblins were now on the defensive; Dal kept up the attack to deny them an opportunity to muster. He added another modest spell to the fray, throwing a conjured sphere of acid at the goblins sheltering through the doorway. His glob of acid spattered behind the fleeing goblin's feet, spurring it to more speed as it yelped and cried, and its fellows laughed at it. Empathy was not a goblin's strongest virtue, but then, neither was common sense.
            The dance was an intricate one, but Orklar managed well enough. Though in truth, the others spun and shuffled around his great half-orc bulk more than he minded their own whens and hows. He lumbered away with deliberate strides from the thronging goblins, all mirthful thoughts of pre-greased goblins remaining unspoken. Nala was clutched under his shield arm, and he only drew up when they were behind the bulk of a pillar once more.
            He pressed the wild gnome against the rigid column, holding her aloft as the words of power came to his lips once more. The cold of the stone behind and the chill of the spirit before met in the middle of her broken form, and Orklar sneered a bit as he willed the call of the grave from her.
            As color returned to Nala, he continued to pin her fast to the pillar. “Easy now, wild one. Eaasy,” he said. “Do you have your head about you finally?”
            Nominis frowns at time wasted to kill, but understands the need to keep goblins occupied until the group reorganizes. He follows Orklar back toward the exit. As he retreats he summons 4 small globes of shadow and directs them toward the goblin throng, careful not to plunge Brick in total darkness. "Close the doors, goblins. Only death awaits you here."
            The light dimmed around Brick, making Dal squint and glance at his lights, though the dwarf wasn't bothered.
            The goblin fleeing toward Meepak had begun to yell again, and Nominis saw Meepak squawk and dart back the way they had come. The goblin, though, went the other way - left, into the corridor Dal had peeked down. A moment later, other goblin voices began to join its yelling, though from the sound, the noises were more confused than alarmed - yet.
            The goblins in the doorway near Brick hung back warily, looking at the acid eating away at the stone above them and at their feet. The frightened one fled, but the three others squinted their beady eyes at the party, jabbering to each other.
            Nala gasped as wounds closed and consciousness returned, and the pain along with it. She growled and snarled, swinging out blindly and catching Orklar in the jaw with a feeble punch. It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up with a Big pinning her down.
            Large green eyes opened and she stared up at the orc, blinking. “Goblins,” she panted, searching for her battleaxe. She shook goblin blood from her eyes and rose red hair that had accumulated during the fight while she lay beneath the falling goblins. “Did we kill them all?”
            Orklar rolled with Nala’s punch, more wincing at the slap of it then the force. His tongue snaked out across the corner of his mouth with a bemused swipe to clean off the worst of the grime left behind.
            “We killed enough,” Orklar growled at her, though his angry tone faded off. “For now. Though you almost killed us in the process.” He still held her and let that last bit sink in a moment before releasing her with a light shove against the pillar.
            “The next time you sail off like that and fall,” he said, leaning to look around the pillar at the state of affairs. “I leave you for the rats.”
            Orklar’s raggedy head swiveled toward the taunting goblins near the acid and then back toward the ruckus in the distance behind them. He hefted up his bulk and got it moving back the way they had come.
            “Time to go,” he said in his deep rumble. “We’ve kicked the stirge’s nest enough for one day.”
            The half-orc lumbered with singular purpose, not looking back and showing no intention of slowing. As he passed through the doorway out of the hazy room, he called back, “Ale’s on me!”
            Brick grumbled as he scrambled back to his feet; he had forgotten about the greased floor. Back to his feet, he buried his axe into the hobgoblin. Then he heard Orklar's offer of ale. "Oh, aye?" He wasn't one to refuse such an offer! He then turned away from the carnage and followed the tactical retreat.
            Nala pulled herself to her feet, looking down at her armor covered in goblin blood and her own. Orklar and Brick started to lumber off.
            “What? But wait! There are still goblins to kill!” she protested, picking up her axe. She looked back toward the door and the goblins, but then sighed and followed after them, her axe dragging forlornly along the stonework behind her.
            Dal was surprised at his own surprise at Orklar’s determined retreat. For a moment, Dal had caught a taste of the fire that boiled in Nala, and in Brick. He almost protested – why leave now? Asking the question to himself brought back the rational answers and the knowledge he’d been at the edge of outright desperate flight just heartbeats ago. They were exhausted, they’d been drawn into a fight they hadn’t chosen, they’d severely shifted the balance of power in these buried ruins. The goblins might not even be able to hold their own against the kobolds, now. The dragon would have to wait.
            Dal fell into brisk line to make their way back out of goblin territory. “Defensible shelter,” he suggested as he moved with the group. “Stick zombies on the surface; kobolds and goblins down here.”
            “Ale is on the surface,” Orklar stated, as if no other argument existed worth heeding.
            Nominis shakes his head "We don't have to get out. We can hole up in that archery range and rest. If goblind have some beast behind those doors they could unleash it. Or if it is a dragon, they could kill it. We could call kobolds to hold the territory." He keeps in step with others. "If we leave, we may have to pass the kobolds again. And we haven't seen lost adventurers except for one. We have to rest. But not leave goblins to fortify the range again."
            “Good plan,” Orklar called over his shoulder with no indication of slowing his pace.
            Dal reasoned out a possible compromise, "Meepak will run back to the kobolds. That lone goblin will circle back or hole up somewhere. Ale can wait ten minutes longer; let's talk to the kobolds before we leave, tell them they have an opportunity to expand their territory if they can fortify a line closer to the goblin town for a day. It'll help towards us returning and getting back their dragon. I'm not going to split off on my own and separate us, but if we can go as a group, it's not far from where we're going, already."
            Nala yawned, dragging her axe. Now that the battle frenzy was over, she was tired. She would curl up wherever they told her just fine, surface or ruins. They weren’t done down here, though. Tomorrow she could kill more goblins.
            Nala smiled.
            At Dalian’s reasoning, Orklar’s pace slowed, and he drew up, turning a scrutinizing eye on the mage. “Do you know how much ale I can drink in ten minutes?” he asked.
            "Or I?" the Dwarf interjected with a toothy grin.
            Then Orklar scoffed into a chuckle. “You’re putting a lot of faith in kobold bravado, spell weaver. I wouldn’t expect them to leap at your offer.”
            He took a deep breath and released it. “But fine, we can detour to update our allies.” He stepped closer to Dalian then, closing the distance a little more than social graces allowed. “Just know that the only thing more dangerous than coming between a dwarf and his ale…is coming between an orc and his.”
            Brick scoffed, "Dunnae 'bout that, lad." He chuckled and shook his head. Musing, he added, "Mebbe me clan coulda avoided tha war if'n we rolled out tha ale?"
            Vol shrugged. "Let's go, then. I'll watch our backs." The tall elf drew an arrow and nodded to the east. "Go. I'll follow."
            Orklar nodded toward Brick sagely as he turned and said, “Not to worry. There’s ale in our future. I’ve seen it.”
            "Aye lad," Brick nodded just as sagely. "Me tankard be ready ta be filled wit wha'ever rotgut ye orcs call ale." He said with an exaggerated wink.

            Their retreat was speeded by the renewed sound of goblin yells coming from where the surviving goblin had fled - apparently, there were more reinforcements that way. Yet the goblins did not pursue them beyond the target range for some reason, and they hurried out past the swept-aside piles of caltrops and back to kobold territory. They found Meepak waiting for them in the room just beyond the caltrop-strewn hall, and he proudly brandished a bloody goblin sword and a goblin bedroll full of who knew what.
            <"Soon, our dragon we will save!"> he chirped triumphantly, but made no complaint as they retreated. Hit-and-run was a time-tested kobold tactic, too.
            The kobold guards in the room with the great firepit were not so sanguine, yapping that the party had to save their dragon to earn their free passage, but Meepak smoothed things over by handing out some of the goblin loot he had gathered, and telling them of the beating the goblins had taken. Grudgingly, the little monsters let the party pass unmolested back out to the darkness of the chasm, and the long climb upward, into the dim light of dusk.
            Dal stepped forward, speaking in Draconic, <"The goblins are dazed, but they'll work to close the path we came in by. You have a brief opportunity to expand your territory and hold a new line, keep the goblins from retaking the ground they lost. Otherwise, when we return, we must try a new route.">
            With Meepak's confirmation of this news, the kobolds yipped excitedly, some dashing off, presumably to muster the kobold troops.
            After a laborious climb, the renewed heat of summer was enervating compared to the cool halls of the monsters below. They found that the animals had run off, the reason for it clear: a pair of the twig-creatures lurked at the top of the ravine. The party crushed them quickly, and found that the animals hadn't gone far, though Knuckles had suffered a few scratches, likely from the twig things. Roger was unscathed, and perched in the branches of a tree, busily chewing the leaves.
            Nala trudged up the long walk back to the edge of the ravine. She was in a bit of a panic at not seeing Roger, but relief soon came as she found the goat comfortably chewing on twig creatures. She hugged the goats neck tightly.
            The group was a ragged, bloody mess, but Orklar still orchestrated the retrieval of the goods they had thus far collected. No sense wasting good transport time in case they needed to beat a hasty retreat later. So after clearing the lip of the ravine, the half-orc rounded up Knuckles and saw to his care with a genuine fondness, but then affixed the various sundries to the beast’s travel pack for easy conveyance later.
            Before long, Meepak popped out of the ravine as well. <"Forget your promise do not,"> he reminded Dal, keeping back from their camp. He scuttled into a nearby pile of boulders to watch them with reptilian eyes, his blue scales blending into the encroaching dark.
            Dal nodded, <"I remember. We are still here to find the three, and now your dragon, such that you will help us."> Satisfied with Dalian's promise, Meepak chirped a confirmation before falling silent, hidden among the rocks.
            The adrenaline had left Dal long ago, lost somewhere upon their exit of the Citadel and the climb back to the surface. Dal felt hollow and weary, and sat forward with elbows on knees and head heavy.
            Deadfall was gathered for a fire and a watch was set, both against the menacing stick-men from above and the toothy green-men from below. Looking over the worst of the wounds among them, Orklar deployed the last of his healing arts of the day for Nala before they tucked in for the night.
            The warm ale flowed before, during, and after all of these ministrations, and Orklar shared willingly with any that wished to partake. The only thing worse than too much ale was any ale that went undrunk should ill fates befall them below.
            Dal nodded silent thanks at accepting a mug from Orklar's reserves.
            Nala settled down by the fire leaning against Roger’s warm body as she sipped the warm ale. It wasn’t that great warm, but it filled her belly, so was good enough.
            "We're not safe here." Nominis looks at the open space around them. "Should we have double watches? We would need to change twice, but would be safer. Or maybe we could sleep down there on the ledge? Easier to defend."
            Nominis takes couple of tankards, but no more than that.
            "We should talk tactics even if the beer pulls in different direction. We got two new members and nearly lost two in the last couple of hours. And we have no idea who can do what."
            Dal winced at that, keenly aware how close he'd been to running from the battle.
            Nominis takes swig of the ale. "I'll start.. I am Nominis Expers, my abilities are bound to The Great Shadow as you saw. I can pass unnoticed and catch whatever is needed in the net. I lost the whip made of dragonskin and some goblin will pay for that. I prefer ambush to direct confrontation, but I can hold my own. That said, running away from the group into the unknown almost cost all of us our lives, Wee Fury, Nala..." Nominis uses her given name for the first time since they met..."...that was brave. But also stupid. If we stopped for just moments, you'd be dead before we arrived. And it was pure chance that the whip held those doors, even made from superior material. Anyhow, we all came through as a group and we survived. Cheers!" He raises the mug, drinks and continues "We lost the element of surprise. It will be harder next time. And we didn't check those locked doors. It may have held prisoners and I hope our hasty departure will not cost one or more of the adventurers lives. If they were captured they might be used against us. Or killed. Then, there are those dragon doors, cold to the touch. That may be the place where kobold dragon is hiding."
            Nala frowned at Nominis’ dressing down. Of course she was brave! “And if that goblin had run off and brought down every goblin in there on top of us, what would you have done then? I was trying to kill it before it got away! Sneaky little bastard was too slippery!”
            Nominis raises his mug to Nala. "No one questions your bravery, Wee Fury. If he brought reinforcements, we would fight and retreat. You tried to kill it. But he got away. I'm just asking you to consider stopping next time if you don't get him immediately. Give us time to advance properly. As a group of hunters, not as ankheg tribe rabble trying to raid us."
            He stops, look of confusion passing over his face. "Why did I say 'us'? Am I of the Lion tribe or just wish it so?" He thinks as he settles back.
            He waves others to continue. "Sorry, please continue everyone."
            “Well, of course you would wish to be of the Lion Tribe,” Nala said. “It’s the best tribe.” She shook her head, as if such a thing was obvious.
            Brick partook freely of the ale, unhooking the pint tankard from his hip where it lived throughout their ordeal. He wiped a dirty hand across the relief of Dumathion Undermountain - a sharply faceted gem tucked under a tall mountain - in a poor attempt to clean the goblin ichor from upon it. He made no further attempts to clean the stein before filling it with ale. Two pints of ale moistened his throat before he shared his story with his new companions.
            "I be Brick Orcrender." he paused with a grin to Orklar, fully aware of what his surname meant, only Vol having heard it before. "Weaponmaster o' Thurum Khazad.. Ye be seein' wot me skills be. Runnin' in beard-first inta tha fray, me axes spinnin'. I be used ta bein' on tha front lines, though if'n ye brainy-types suggest tactics, I be listenin'. I followed orders in tha Guard, I can 'ere too." He waved his tankard idly, though careful not to spill it's contents. "I ain't one ta dodge or let me armor save me. Betta ta drop me enemies a'fore they git a chance." He finished his ale and poured himself another before dropping onto a log to listen to the others.
            Orklar paused mid-refill as Brick made his proclamation. Then he snorted in laughter at the dwarf’s surname.
            “I’m drinking with an Orcrender,” he chuckled. “Now that’s a kick to the filthies, if ever there was one.” He raised his cup to Brick and then drained it, filled it again briefly, and then yet again, before turning from the barrel to join the others.
            Lowering himself to a rounded stone that had held many asses before his, Orklar exhaled with a welcome relief. He idly rubbed one knee as he took a deep breath and gazed into the night sky, bringing his mind to center for where the path ahead might lead.
            “I am Orklar the Forgotten,” he said by way of introduction to Brick. “Seer and soothsayer, and I ask ya’ all to settle a bit. We’ll set a watch, but none will perish on this broken shelf of stone this night.”
            “Tomorrow,” he shrugged. “Tomorrow we will see what the bones foretell. Just know that each of us are as we are. We have two that willingly crash into the meat grinder of melee.” He eyed Nominis in saying, “There’s power in that. Don’t deny them their hearts.”
            But then he turned to Nala and Brick and said, “But be not surprised if there are those who won’t follow you into the yawning abyss on your terms. You’re not among kinsmen. Adjust your tactics accordingly.”
            “We have magic, and shadow, and the sight, as well,” he said, leaning back with a gratifying smile. “The air is clear and the ale aplenty. And tomorrow, adventure calls once more. All in all, a good day gone. Another to come.”
            The big half-orc drained his cup and got up to refill it again, apparently finished with words for now..
            Nala sat up straighter as everyone introduced themselves. “I am Nala. I have been told my family name is Whistverves. But I am of the Lion Clan, and I’m not afraid of anything!” She puffed out her little chest, which was rather buxom for a gnome.
            “Oh, one of you magic types want to look at this ring I found?” She dug it out of the pouch at her belt.
            The lanky archer nodded at Nala, legs crossed as he sat on the bare ground. "I can take a look, Nala. I know a little magic."
            Nala looked over at Vol and then shrugged and handed the ring to him. “Magic,” she said, with typical barbarian distaste.
            Vol smiled at her and looked around at the others, particularly the newcomers. "I'm Vol, from Assadoth on the edge of the Misty Vale." He patted the black bow that rarely left his hands. "I shoot, too."
            He shrugged at Nominis. "Goblins have short lives and shorter attention spans. They might dig in, but they'll get bored eventually. We can wait them out. Hopefully the adventurers can last long enough for us to rescue them. If not, or if they're already dead... well, their families will appreciate us recovering their effects."
            The silence suggested most of the introductions had passed; Dal looked left and right and saw only expectant, encouraging glances.
            "Dalian, from Beluir. This... that was the first big fight I've seen." He left something unspoken, as he reconciled that the stories of heroes were candleflickers to the real chaos and danger and darkness of it all. "Is it always like that?" he asked of them all, on impulse. "I mean, we defeated some of the twig-creatures here on the surface, yesterday or the day before, but we outnumbered them and we were in strength... that didn't feel dangerous, even when one or two got through to us. You could see the movements in your mind, like a match, and I knew we'd win. Maybe that's what made that hall, down there, different. I mean, adventurers aren't supposed to ever think they're all about to die."
            Dal shook his head, "I feel I know less now than I did before I started my apprenticeship. I set out, here, to make my way, to learn, to see, to do." He drew a breath that steadied his shoulders, "I was going to run; I don't have any shame in admitting that to you all. If in your eyes; I gather you all have years of adventures behind you and ahead; that means I'm not cut out for this adventuring stuff, tell me, and I'll leave you be to finish what you'd set out to do. But I think having faced it once, I'll be steadier next time." He smirked, and added to Nala, "As they said, though, just please don't do that again, stretch us out like that. Could've worked out differently, I know, and I understand why you did it, but it was a long-shot gambit and I think we lost on it."
            Dal eyed the ring Nala had produced and that Vol was considering. He politely waited for Vol to finish his examinations, then held out an upturned palm with a questioning glance, offering to also take a look at it.
            Dal returned the gold ring to Nala after examining it, "I don't believe it's magical, but it does have a word inscribed on it." Dal hesitated a moment, recalling the last time he'd said a word aloud in musing curiosity, but decided it safe enough since the ring wasn't magical as far as he could tell. "It reads, 'Karakas.' Written in Common. Right there." Dal held the ring such that Nala could see the engraving.
            Nominis nods at Orklars comment and answers Dal with his own 'wisdom' "You don't seek adventure because it is glorious. And you'd be a fool if you didn't fear death. Especially the one that can be found in old citadels, abandoned mines and haunted houses. The stories are there for making the teller popular with the crowd, to get him free drinks or maybe dinner and a bed. Not to describe it realistically. What if I described tribe raid in a song? It would be heroic, praising stealthy approach, sudden pounce and quick taking of the prize. But in reality, it is long run, followed by cold and wet crawl through dewy grass, tensing every yard for that one shout that will bring the target tribe on you or that one arrow from unnoticed guard that takes you unaware. Sure, the results are glorious if you succeed. I can say I survived a dragon. I survived living in the world much more dangerous than this one. Does that make me a hero? I didn't fight the dragon, I was carried away! And I survived by never being NOT afraid. So, get your rosy glasses off before you lose an eye to them."
            Nominis smirks, touching his own eye patch and looking at Orklar. "We survived. The rest were either lucky until now or they didn't encounter nothing really dangerous. You say you didn't feel threatened with those twig things. Now imagine hundred of them. They are still small, weak, not really dangerous creatures. But you need hundred hits to destroy them and that takes time. And you can be overwhelmed in that time as we nearly were by goblins."
            Here he looks at Nala "As I said, lucky."
            But quickly turns back to Dalian. "As you said, you wanted to do. You will advance faster than your sedentary colleagues. You will be forced to, if you don't advance fast enough, you die. And many do. In the tower you can spend 50 years advancing slowly...slowly, but safely. Or you could become an arch-mage before you're thirty. But in that time, you will see the worst this world has to offer. Worse, you will actively seek such because knowledge of power can be found in such dangerous places as I mentioned before. And if you think you cannot take it, better tell us now and leave. No shame in being afraid. Doing despite being afraid is what sets you apart from common people. Just know that if you run and someone dies who is not me...I will find you."

            When it was time to turn in, Nala yawned and stretched and hauled out her bedroll, curling up and drifting off.
            With it clear all had rest in mind, Dal rose to his feet and planted the steel cap of his quarterstaff ten feet off from the fire, more or less electing that as the 'center' of their makeshift camp. It stood there on its own, still radiating light from its free upper terminus. Dal's fingers danced across the carved wood briefly; tracing a glyph here, tapping two more in chorus here, then cupped his hands about the glowing top, momentarily shielding the light. His fingers splayed and the light renewed, brighter than it had been for a few moments, then resuming its usual torchlike intensity. To the limit of where the light had expanded, a faint golden circle fifteen paces wide seemed to linger upon the ground all around them; it faded away as quickly as any spat campfire ember.
            "Anything significant intruding the circle will sound a clear warning. If you leave the circle, before you re-enter it, whisper, 'citadel,' and it will remain silent for you. I hope it will help all the watches."
            The night passed without further incident than the call of wild animals in the dark. The party woke feeling a bit better than they had before - Orklar's lungs seemed cleared, finally, of the poisonous gas he had inhaled, though Vol, while he was breathing a bit easier, was still coughing from it.
            The night passed without further incident than the call of wild animals in the dark. The party woke feeling a bit better than they had before - Orklar's lungs seemed cleared, finally, of the poisonous gas he had inhaled, though Vol, while he was breathing a bit easier, was still coughing from it.
            Nominis gets up with the light and drops down into the canyons shadow to await his companions. He nods to Meepak, but doesn't try to speak with it. Gloom settles around him as a cloak.
            Dawn turned to daylight quickly, as it always did on the savannah. The heat of the day began to rise quickly, spurring them to make a decision as to their next move.
            That, and Meepak was making disgruntled noises from where he was hiding in the boulders, peeking out at them.
            In the morning, Nala awoke to start breakfast, only to remember that she hadn't brought any provisions. She looked over to Meepak. “C’mon, kobold. You must be hungry.”
            Nala’s stomach growled. She’d forgotten to pick up rations in town. She hadn’t thought the would take that long. Stupid. They were going to have to go hunting or something. Maybe the goblins had food in that town of theirs.
            And she was still hurting from her wounds. She wasn’t going to be as effective if she was still injured. She pulled out the small vial she had found yesterday and tossed back the contents. Her stomach warmed, and for a bit the hunger faded as she felt some of her wounds close.
            Meepak peered at Nala, but didn't approach; he seemed to dislike the direct sunlight, staying in the shadow of the boulder pile he was hiding in. Nala's sharp eyes detected a few flecks of blood on his snout.
            Brick's stomach grumbled loudly while he got his gear together in the morning. "Oi, stop dat," he said to his belly. He pulled out some trail rations from his pack and sat on a handy stone to consume them. It didn't offer much in the way of flavor, but the valuable calories would sustain him for the time being. "Any o' dat ale left?" he asked, rocking his tankard in an extended hand.
            "We should go see the Meepak's tribe, ask if they'd had any encounters with the goblins last night. This is new to me, but as we kicked in the back door last night, I think we should try the goblins' front door now." Dal said.
            "Knockin' in tha front door be fine by me," Brick added to the conversation, "anytin ta keep dem gobbies guessin'." He leaned back and considered the topic of tactics. "We gotta remember choke points. Keep our foes from surroundin us again. Me an' Nala should be blockin a door o' sommit, an' ye bow folk and finger wigglers be ahind us tossin' stuff o'er our 'eads." He grinned, "An advantage tae 'avin short folk be yer front line."
            Orklar worked around the camp in the morning, preparing a breakfast with the rations they had found and offering it to any that felt the pangs. He worked with his usual steady pace, tireless and unyielding limbs moving his bulk about with ease.
            “Not to worry wizard,” he said to Dalian at one point. “Some of us have seen the blood before. Some tasted it for the first time last night. You did fine, and that was a salty dance for sure.” He paused and turned his lone eye toward the great crack in the earth.
            “Death was watching from the shadows,” he said, then turning back. “But we had light and heart enough to break clear, and that’s what matters.” He took a deep breath.
            “Front door, back door, doesn’t matter to me,” he said, fishing out the heavy key he had taken off the fallen goblins. “I’m only intent on checking this door. Keys have power, they hold secrets, and good or bad, I’d like to find out what those green mongrels would choose to lock away.”

            The trip back down into the ravine was uncomfortable for those who weren't fully healed, the strain of climbing down the rope almost as bad as it had been climbing up it the night before, but soon enough they found themselves in kobold territory once more. Meepak followed them down, coming closer as they entered the kobolds' realm, his boldness growing with proximity until he was proudly strutting among them.
            The red-clad kobolds barked at their entrance, a din that brought to mind an over-crowded kennel, but which Dal recognized as celebratory. They had indeed moved up their territory, Meepak explained to him. <"Good work, you have done. But over it is not yet."> Meepak thrust out his chest bravely, and the other kobolds slapped their tails on the ground in approval as they barked, adding to the noise.
            < "Where is the new boundary, and what have you observed the goblins doing since we left?"> Dal asked of Meepak, since Meepak was appointing himself as escort and liaison. Dal anticipated Meepak would pass Dal's inquiries to his fellows. <"I expect the goblins to have fortified that entrance, now; we'd like to see the other passage to the goblins you mentioned.">
            After conferring with the red-clad kobolds, Meepak told Dal that the kobolds had advanced to what had been the goblin's first outpost. <"Harder to keep us back, they are fighting,"> he explained. <"Take your request to Yusdrayl, they will. Until then, wait we will.">
            Orklar raised a meaty hand, and in it was the goblin key from the previous day. It was fastened to his belt with a crude length of leather.
            “Locked door first,” he said. “My bones tell me so. Beyond that there is just mayhem, and smoke, and…rotten fruit, I think.” He shook his head in consternation and sniffed the air again. “So many bones, old and new. Tough to see clearly.”
            At Orklar's request, Meepak led the party up past the corridor that had been scattered with caltrops and over the wall of the goblin "gate," which had now become a kobold advance outpost populated by six kobold "bounders," as Meepak named them. <"Beyond, fight us the goblins do,"> he explained. <"Safe it is not.">
            They returned to the room with the great firepit, Meepak making his little gesture of kobold significance at the dragon-carved fountain as they passed. A short time later, a kobold returned to speak quietly with Meepak. <"Grant Hucrele's Motley's request, great Yusdrayl magnanimously does,"> he announced, motioning for the party to follow the other kobold back to the Hall of Dragons.
            With all the events of the day prior, the kobold’s use of the party name, ‘Hucrele’s Motley,’ gave Dalian introspective pause. Names held significance. A moment’s parlay and a quick choice while speaking with the kobolds yesterday had become something more. Perhaps they all had.
            Dal translated for the party, “Meepak has the tribe’s permission to escort us to the front entrance of the goblin territory, when we’re ready.”
            “Not that door,” Orklar growled when asked about the dragon portal. “That door’s got nothing but whispered screams behind it.” He pointed a thumb back toward goblin territory. “The door on the target range. That’s where I found this key. That’s where it goes.”
            His face was screwed up in thought, but he relented after a few heartbeats. “But coming at them from another direction has merit,” he said.
            In the Hall of Dragons, six armored kobolds stood ready, one of them (Pukkik, the one with an acid-pocked face) scowling at the party with a hateful snarl. Another one they recognized, Sharm, stepped forward to speak.
            <"Unlocked the doors we have. To the far right you must walk, close to the wall - stray do not! A trap we have built before this door. After you, the doors we will lock again. Knock you must to come through."> Sharm demonstrated a specific pattern of knocks on the door.
            Again, Dal translated, “Stay on the right wall to avoid the kobolds’ traps. They’ll lock the door behind us; use that knock for them to open it.” Even as he said it, though, he could imagine Pukkik arguing against unlocking the door for the party should the goblins be close on their heels. Or with a dragon in tow, who may not heed staying to the right wall.
            “No matter which way we go in, our way out likely needs to be the hall and range.”
            “As long as we push to the right once through. I don’t care for a locked door behind us. Secret knock or no.”
            Orklar leaned in conspiratorially toward Dalian. “Think you could get the clan here to push on their front a bit when we make our move?” he said with a shrug. “Give the goblins twice as much to think about.”
            “I’ll ask,” Dal answered honestly. He truly didn’t know if the kobolds would.
            Meepak froze when Sharm mentioned locking the doors after them, and yipped a protest, but Sharm was not moved. <"Into our midst the goblins you must not bring. For the safety of the clan, this is."> Meepak's ears and tail drooped, and he looked as though he was contemplating running away... but for him, there was nowhere else to go.
            <"Goblin weapons you have taken. Fight, and proud to a warrior of the Tooth of Calcryx clan be! Our dragon you must rescue!"> Sharm said encouragingly. Meepak looked at the sword he had taken as though he'd picked up a snake.
            Nala laughed. “They think a locked door will stop us if we need to get through?” she asked. She clapped a hand on Meepak’s shoulder. “Worry not, scaly friend! We kill goblins today! Stick close and I will watch your back.” She cracked her neck and tightened her long braided red hair. “Ready whenever anyone else is,” Nala said.
            Meepak jumped at Nala's touch, hissing nervously before realizing she meant him no harm. He blinked owlishly at her words, glancing at Dal, but not pushing for an explanation.
            Vol shrugged. "I figure whichever way we don't go now is a way we'll go later." He nodded at Nala. "I'm ready, too."
            Brick grunted, "As long as me axes git tae meet tha gobbies what stole me ale, I ain't carin' which way we be goin."
            <”We are prepared to enter,”> Dal spoke with Meepak. <”We suggest the Clan send one runner from the tribe to the back entrance of the goblin territory; have the kobolds who hold that position raise extra noise to draw the goblins’ attention while we enter from this way.”>
            When this was relayed to Sharm, she sent a runner to the dark end of the Hall of Dragons, presumably to relay Dal's request to Yusdrayl. The quick little kobold returned in short order, and Sharm nodded decisively to Dal. <"Do this, we shall. The glory of the Tooth of Calcryx, we do this for!"> She shook her spear, and the other red-cloaked guards yipped in approval.
            Meepak weakly waved his goblin sword, not seeming as enthusiastic.
            "There will be fighting enough, no need to rush into it. I hope we learned the lesson yesterday." Nominis comments as he slips into the darkness beyond the door. Familiar shadow wisps accompany him on the way, deepening the darkness in already dark corridor.

            The light dim ahead as Nominis' shadow-wisps stole the strength of the light from Dalian's staff, the party carefully edged to the right around what appeared to be bare stone floor, opening another door beyond and reaching a dogleg corridor. Meepak casually remained behind the corner of the passage, clutching his sword with both hands and breathing hard; if kobolds could sweat, he would have been soaked, despite the cool air in the deep passages of the Citadel.
            There was a heavy crunk as the door to the Hall of Dragons was locked again. Meepak's ears wilted, and he gave the way back a long look.
            At the front of the party, Nominis and Nala took a moment to listen at the next door. They could make out voices behind it - goblin voices.
            “I definitely hear goblins,” Nala whispered back to the others. “Get ready.” She drew her axe and held it in one hand for now. She tied her sling to her finger and loaded it to be ready in case she needed a ranged attack, but could easily drop it if she needed to use her axe.
            At the back of the party, Vol listened for anything coming up from behind while holding his bow ready to shoot the moment the door opened.
            Orklar turned his solitary eye to the side and listened, trying to filter out the incidental sounds. His left arm carried the wooden shield, and he leaned heavily on the crooked quarterstaff which bore his weight in the calmer times. He nodded in satisfaction after a moment.
            “Now we just wait for Meepak’s brood to draw some attention,” he said.
            He straightened up, cracking a few bones in the process and stuffing the crook of his staff into his armpit. Fishing a flask off of his belt, he opened it and wrapped his lip around it for a healthy spell. His manic grimace shone in the light as he swallowed. He glanced sideways at Brick, watching him, and smiled again, reholstering the flask.
            “Ale’s one thing,” Orklar said. “Whiskey’s a whole different deal altogether.”
            Before long, they heard the goblin voices raised in a commotion, whereafter it quieted once again. Nominis cracked the door open to reveal a bare handful of goblins resting around a crude firepit made out of the rubble that lay here and there in the citadel. Rags and ratty furs lay scattered around, and the filth and graffiti suggested they had stayed in that nest of an outpost for some time.
            ...And at that moment, Orklar's armor made a dull scraping sound as he shifted his weight.
            The goblins looked up from their fire and dirty furs, grabbing their weapons and jumping to their feet as they jabbered in sudden alarm. Vol took a shot past Nominis at the closest one, but with unnatural luck it clapped on its helmet a moment before his arrow clattered off of it.
            Orklar had been bestowing various insights to those in his immediate vicinity. First to Dalian, the fragile human specimen could use all the orcish help he could muster. Then to Vol, he was taking a shine to the willowy archer and his wry outlook. As he turned to grant his guidance to Brick, his armor alerted the enemy.
            “I’ve been meaning to oil that,” he grumbled.
            Though Dal was a bit further back, and from the looks of things much of what was about to happen would do so before Dal got his own wits about him, Dal considered his options – either hurling a dagger forward if they all managed to make a press into the room, or throwing another Sleep spell if the four goblins remained on their feet and massed in their output, clustered around the door and the party held that line.
            Brick stifled a chuckle at Orklar's squeaky armor. While it was amusing, it was also potentially deadly. In his Guard days, his instructors instilled a need for oiled armor. No reason to give the enemy another clue to your whereabouts. Instead, the dwarf shook his head and turned his attention to the advancing goblins.
            Brick moved forward, twin axes spinning. He focused on the goblin just outside the doorway and locked his eyes on it. Stepping forward enough to reach it, his axes worked furiously to cut it down. His dwarven waraxe cut right, left, right, and the goblin screeched as its dark blood spurted from the wounds Brick had opened.
            Vol shook his head at the goblin's unnatural luck and reached for another arrow to shoot. This time, the arrow took the no-longer-so-lucky goblin in the throat. It went down with a gargle, dropping its sword and shield to clutch at the arrow sprouting from its neck.
            Meepak summoned up all his courage and peeked around the corner to see what the party was doing, his goblin blade trembling in his hands.
            Before Orklar could finish any insight upon Brick however, the dwarf, despite still looking a bit banged up, was blazing toward the goblins and out of reach.
            Orklar snorted in good humor at the display and stepped into Brick’s wake, instead laying some vision upon Nala. “Aim true, Fury,” he said. “And try to keep your head.”
            Nala nodded to Orklar in thanks for the blessing and then gave a roar, raising her axe. She rushed forward, charging at the goblins, not about to let them harm her friends. The newly lucky-unlucky goblin staggered back just as she swiped at it, throwing off her aim - her axe carved a groove down its leather cuirass, but didn't penetrate the armor.
            Nominis waits for the warriors to take the lead and follows taking flank or supporting one or the other depending on the situation. Quickly channeling some energy into his rapier, Nominis stabs at the goblin.
            Nominis had no better luck against the goblin; it retreated in the face of the onslaught, limping away to the door, screeching.
            The other two goblins, seeing they were outnumbered, immediately opted for the better part of valor, scrambling for the door. There was a small scuffle as they fought to open it; then one managed to get the door open and ran through, shouts echoing in the hazy hall beyond. The slower goblins cast frightened looks behind them. They were alone with the intruders!
            They didn't have time to be held up and choked into the entryway; the party needed to get into the hall before goblin reinforcements arrived. Dal could only see one goblin from his position; and the view was fleeting; but he could tell more were in the room. He moved south and east, shifting adjacent to Meepak and watching his view through the door as he did so. He hoped he could see far enough to make this work... Dal threw his spell into the room to try to drop all the defending goblins immediately.
            Just like that, the goblins slumped to the ground, their weapons and shields clattering on the floor.
            Brick grinned ferally as he moved into the room and the goblins backed away from their onslaught. He eyed one suddenly snoozing goblin and advanced, his axes working away. The goblin's eyes popped open, then sagged shut again as the gaping wound in its chest made itself known.
            Orklar lumbered ahead with the surge, trying to stay out of the way of those who operated at range. As he passed Nominis, he paused to give the shadowling a little orcish insight. “Aim lower and adjust for the weight,” he said, “Remember they’re less than half your size.”
            Guidance offered, he nodded and carried on into the fetid room, shield and mace at the ready.
            “Shazbot!” Nala cursed, as she only grazed the goblin’s armor. She advanced again, trying to cut the little green nuisances down. “Stand still so I can cut you!”
            The senseless goblin obliged, and suffered for it. Nala planted her axe deep in its chest as it slept.
            Outside the room, the sound of pattering feet receded, as did the goblin screaming. The sounds seemed to be coming from the right of their disgusting room.

            Brick nodded at the quick work they had done to the goblins in the room. He turned to the open door and gripped his axes a little tighter before diving through into the hall. His head immediately swiveled left and right, taking stock of any enemy positions. Then, he dashed across the hall to place a column in front of him for whatever cover it could provide.
            As he had shown before, Vol was merciless when it came to leaving potential enemies behind him. The elf put his arrow back in his quiver and advanced into the room with a knife to make sure the snoozing goblins wouldn't wake up. He nodded at Meepak. "Put your dagger in every one of their throats, Meepak."
            Meepak may not have understood his words, but he understood Vol's intent. With a sudden surge of bravery, he brandished his goblin sword and ran over to the closest downed goblin with his teeth bared.
            “Hmph,” Orklar grunted as the goblins were cut down where they fell. A combination of magic and metal had made short work of them, but the big half-orc wasn’t sure both had been necessary.
            He swapped his mace to his shield hand for the moment and picked up the fallen goblin next to him by the ankle. Holding the greenskin’s face up to his, he grunted again and started shuffling forward. He moved his bulk through the doorway and glanced in both directions, assessing the circumstances that loomed in the smoky hall.
            Meepak squeaked as Orklar scooped up the goblin he'd been preparing to slaughter. Looking around, he trotted toward another.
            The haze of smoke from the torches burning fitfully in the wall sconces made his eyes water and scratched at his throat, but it wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. The goblin that had fled was making a ruckus to his right, and Orklar and Brick could hear the deeper voices of larger goblins shouting over the noise. To his left, the door to the goblin town was shut.
            Nala helped dispatch the sleeping goblins. No sense in letting them wake up in a few minutes to come up behind them, or run off and warn the others.
            Nominis slips into the haze, his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of goblins. Darkness of his dusk motes dims his companions lights, but since he doesn't need it anyhow it prevents them being detected from afar.
            With the door to the goblin town shut, he was about to open it to take a peek when goblins began to pour from the doorway at the opposite end of the hall. The first one lobbed a javelin at him from a ridiculous distance, which unsurprisingly arced down to skid across the floor long before it hit him. The rest ran in brandishing their swords, more than one casting glances back the way they had come, from which the hobgoblins' voices continued to harangue them. The greater part of them clustered away from Brick, near the limping half-orc, but the goblin dangling from his fist seemed to give them pause.
            Brick's eyes widened as the goblin horde spilled forth into the hallway. "Dats a lot o' ye," he commented. Rushing forth would get him surrounded. While normally he would relish it, his muscles still felt stiff from the previous day's battle. Tactics were the better option today.
            He grabbed his crossbow and stepped around the pillar as he loaded it. Once it was ready, he loosed the bolt towards the first goblin he sees. His bolt grazed the goblin's head, making its pot-like helm spin and causing it to hit the floor with a squawk.
            Vol slit the throat of the nearest goblin with his dagger as arrows shot out of the darkness of the goblin through-way, aimed at Nominis. One he batted aside with ease, but the other caught him by surprise, lodging in his arm.
            Orklar thought a charge seemed an unlikely option, at least for him. He gave the goblins credit mentally for holding the line thus far. Having expected a pouring into the hallway of his comrades, he reckoned maybe a little too much time had been spent butchering the fallen.
            The big half-orc eyed the approaching horde and snarled his distaste. He then turned and smashed the goblin he was holding into the wall, snarling again as he disappeared from their line of sight.
            The closest goblin faltered in its approach, eyes drawn to the unconscious goblin sprawled on the floor. It hung back as the others shoved past it, looking like it was giving consideration to a change of career.
            Once back among the ranks Orklar said, “Half dozen or so flooding this way. Where’s the mage?” His eye squinted, searching for Dalian.
            Hearing of a new wave of goblins, Nala moved out into the hazy hall. She gave the goblins a wicked grin, taking a few practice swings of her axe. Spotting the thrown javelin on the floor, she casually picked it up.
            Nominis looks at the frightened goblins and shouts at them. "Only more death awaits here. Let hobgoblins fight if they want, you have nothing to gain fighting us! Run! Flee!"
            Yet another goblin seemed to be having second thoughts, for though it probably couldn't understand him, it understood his threatening tone well enough. The other goblins, though, were either more worried about the hobgoblins behind them, or more confident that they could overpower the wounded adventurers. A hail of badly-thrown javelins fell on Nominis and Nala, and though they were able to avoid the bulk of them, each of them was struck by a single javelin. You would have thought that the goblins had won a war, by the way they whooped and hollered.
            They still weren't bold enough to approach, though.
            Brick grunted and reloaded his crossbow, using the pillar to steady himself, and as cover. When the mechanism was loaded once more, he turned, looked around the pillar, and fired again. "Oi, we be needin sommit finger wigglers innere!" he shouted. The crowd of goblins was getting dangerously close. He idly eyed his axes at his feet, hoping he'd be able to retrieve them when the time came.
            This time, Brick aimed just slightly more to the right, and his bolt punched through the goblin's helm and into its head. It fell over backwards with a clatter of metal and wood, and did not rise.
            The rangy elf dropped his dagger and went for his bow, standing and murmuring under his breath as he drew back the string. Once again, his arrow rimed over with frost as he loosed, a ghost of an arrow made of ice shooting out after the wooden one.
            Stepping over to the door, Vol had a bad angle between the door and the pillar to strike one of the goblins... but he wasn't an elf of the Misty Vale for nothing. His solid arrow took the goblin in the chest, and it staggered back a bit - just enough that the arrow of ice flew past it, smashing apart against a dragon-carved pillar. The goblin dropped its sword to tug in astonishment at the arrow-end protruding from its paint-smeared armor. In shock, it gaped over at Vol, blinking rapidly to focus and drooling blood. It was clearly out of the fight.
            One of the hobgoblins shouted some kind of order at the goblins, moving out of the doorway and behind a pillar to take aim at Brick. The dwarf rocked on his feet as the arrow hit him, and then slumped to the floor, his crossbow falling from his hands.
            The goblins gasped as the dangerous dwarf went down, and the hobgoblins continued to harangue them, the other hobgoblin moving forward to take a shot at Nala. Trying to hit her behind the sea of similarly-sized goblins, though, was no easy task, and she avoided the arrow with contemptuous ease.
            Orklar didn’t make a habit of limping his way into a hail of unfriendly fire. He knew he’d likely need to bring someone back from the obsidian brink before too long, and now was the time.
            “You elves and your fancy magic,” Orklar chuckled to Vol. “You’ll have to tell me about those chilly arrows you make some day.” He limped as quickly as he was able over to Brick, which unfortunately wasn't all that fast.
            The goblins jeered as Orklar emerged (at least, the ones that weren't frightened or half-dead did), and Nala took advantage of their distraction to pick a target. Ignoring the one that had dropped its weapon for now, she hurled the goblin javelin at the one beside it, but it was jumping around so much that she missed. Brandishing her axe, she prepared to rush the goblins.
            Nominis returns from his checkup of the adjacent room and, noting the number and spread of the goblins moves forward just enough to get everyone in the area of effect without catching Nala or Brick.
            Nominis began to chant, and the sound quickly grew into a lion's roar so loud before him that the goblins yelled and covered their bleeding ears - the one Vol had shot fell over, piggy eyes rolled back. Those standing behind the bard heard him shout, and the lion's roar, but were shielded from the effect of his spell.
            The frightened goblins focused their ire on Nominis, launching another volley of javelins at him. Ill-aimed though most were, there were so many that Nominis couldn't avoid them all, and he fell as two pierced his armor, his net and rapier falling from his grasp.
            Dal, who had hurried forward as Vol and Brick launched their last shots, boldly moved past the elf and into the smoke-hazed hall, taking cover behind a pillar. Peering out from beneath one of the dragon-mouth braziers, he threw his glowing staff forward, but the goblin he threw it at warded it away with its war-painted shield. The staff snapped back into Dal's hand, and he looked around the pillar with alarm, coughing a bit.
            Vol frowned as he pulled out another arrow. "These hobgoblins want to be elves..." He shook his head. "I'll show them why no one trespasses on the Misty Vale." He drew and aimed at the hobgoblin with the deadly bow.
            His arrow punched into the hobgoblin's shoulder, and the monster snarled, sending a retaliatory arrow back at Vol - but the wound threw off its aim, and the arrow cracked harmlessly against the wall. The other big goblin laughed at its companion, and hit Nala with an arrow. It said something to its fellow, who turned and spat something that was clearly an insult, but which only made the first hobgoblin laugh harder.
            Orklar’s teeth were set on edge by the jeering of the goblins, and he was none too pleased with the constant rain of filthy implements hurled in his direction. When he arrived between his fallen comrades, he had about reached his limit. One stray ricochet bounced off of a pillar and then off of his head near his good eye, and he closed it reflexively to protect the lone orb.
            When it opened, it was glowing white. He looked toward the rabble and roared his displeasure. What emerged from him though was not just a scream. A spectral wind manifested and grew and coalesced around the hulking figure. Frigid shrieking, ghostly ice shards, and phantom images concealed the oracle’s form. Within that ragged storm, a frost covered hand touched upon Brick and Nominis and channeled the furious energy into them.
            Then the maelstrom advanced upon the goblins.
            The goblins drew back, gibbering in their own tongue. As the half-orc advanced, more than one of them cast worried looks back at the hobgoblins at the end of the hall.
            Vol laughed, the merry sound out of place in the middle of the melee. "Talk about your fancy magic!"
            Brick's twitching and bleeding slowed as Orklar's healing energy flowed through him. His eyes popped open and he blinked a few times, willing the bleariness away. What happened, how did he end up on his back? The sounds of battle, distant in his ears, started to resolve. Oh, yes, he was shot. He gave an annoyed growl to the arrow sticking out of his shoulder.
            Brick focused himself, and while clambering to his feet, closed his hands around his axes. He was pissed, and the goblins would pay. Once his cener of balance was over his feet, he launched himself forward, a yell eminating from his bowels. The dwarf verily exploded forward, his axes spinning in the face of the first goblin he saw.
            The terrified goblin didn't stand a chance. Brick's dwarven waraxe cleaved through its armor, and it went down with a gurgle.
            Nala had no time for magic. With a scream, she charged at the nearest goblin near Brick as well, gouging it from stem to stern with her small but deadly axe. It dropped its sword and held up its shield, whimpering, and limped painfully back towards the hobgoblins. The other goblins had had enough as well. They didn't drop their weapons, but they scurried away between the enraged larger goblins, who kicked at them, but had their hands full with their bows and were unable to prevent them from fleeing. Only the one Nala had gutted wasn't able to move fast enough to make it out of the smoke-hazed dragon hall. It quailed between the two screaming hobgoblins, taking the brunt of their ire.
            Dalian peeked around the pillar he was hidden behind, judging whether it was worth it to utilize the Weave when only the hobgoblins remained... but he couldn't deny that they were dangerous, and the party was in bad shape.
            Intoning a chant he had only recently learned, but already had need to deploy surprisingly often, Dal looked out from behind the pillar, pointing at the hobgoblin who had shot Nala.
            A fizzing flash of light sprang from his hand, corkscrewing through the air to slam into the oversized goblin. It yelled something that it was probably just as well that no one understood, with a final kick at the wounded goblin cowering near it before turning its attention back to the party.
            "See the magic of a true archer!" The air grew cold around his black bow as Vol drew again. This time when he loosed the second, magical missile that streaked after his arrow was significantly heavier and more solid.
            The arrow punched deep into the hobgoblin's chest, the impact so strong that it staggered - and the magical ball of hard-packed ice smashed into its face a moment later. It fell over backwards, slumping against the wall with a bleeding nose and lip, its bow falling from limp fingers.
            The last big goblin didn't run the way the smaller ones had, even though it was now alone in its defiance. Without a clear shot at Vol, its aim wavered for a moment between Nala, the snowstorm hiding Orklar, and Brick... but then its hatred of dwarves won out, and with a snarl it unleashed an arrow at Brick. Already wounded, the arrow took Brick down once more.
            The hobgoblin grunted with satisfaction, dropping its bow. It drew its sword with the rasp of metal on metal, holding it up in a guard position. This rat wasn't giving up its nest. From behind it, the sound of goblins and kobolds fighting sounded, an infernal racket of yipping and guttural shouts.
            Orklar advanced on the hobgoblin, emerging from the swirling storm which dissipated in his wake. He wasn’t really in the talking mood anymore, not that it would have understood him anyway. He simply strode up to it and took a swipe at it with his mace. The great chunk of metal glittered with a frosty sheen as it descended through the air.
            The canny hobgoblin parried the heavy mace, thrusting it away with a growl of effort. The two swung and slashed at eachother for a few moments before parting again, neither having had the satisfaction of a telling blow.
            Having seen her two companions go down, and then getting shot by an arrow, Nala raged and charged in, slashing viciously with her axe at the hobgoblin in front of the door. Nala plowed into the startled hobgoblin, who had been occupied with Orklar's attacks. One slash after another cut wounds through the hobgoblin's armor, and Nala's face was sprayed with blood from her frenzied hacking.
            Nominis knew he took risk when he attacked all of them in such brazen way. But this...he really didn't expect to be targeted by every goblinoid in sight. He grew careless with this groups logic of charging head first. Cold flash of healing from the orcish oracle reminded him for a moment of cold waiting hours in The Shadow as he slinked from trap to trap hoping to get something edible as he slowly lost himself to darkness.
            As he remembers, shadows deepen all around, clinging to everything, armoring his group and dragging down the goblins. He rolls away into the protection of the pillar hoping to go unnoticed.
            Dalian frowned as the light dimmed, casting the already smoke-hazed hall into shadow. Still, it looked like things were going well before the darkness obscured the fight.
            Drawing up his courage, he darted up behind the combatants, the light from his staff brightening the scene once more as he approached - and hurled it at the last hobgoblin standing. The staff struck the hobgoblin between the eyes, and it went down like a steer hit with a butcher's hammer.
            Meepak trilled happily from behind them, where he was busy cutting goblin throats with his little sword.
            The battle had been won!

            The fire faded from Orklar’s eye as the hobgoblins fell and a brief reprieve settled over the hall. He looked first down to Nala on one side, nodding at the fiery gnome and quite ready to intercede with his bulk if she had any intent to race forward. Then he looked to the other side, expecting to find Brick huffing and puffing with delight. His eyebrow arched, and he glanced back the way he had come, finding the dwarf prostrate once more.
            The big half-orc shook his head and hobbled back to the fallen warrior as the party regrouped. He knelt with some effort and placed a hand on Brick. Ancient cold rushed into the dwarf once more as Orklar incanted and the projectiles slid free.
            “With this many holes in you,” he said. “You’ll have trouble keeping your ale on the inside. A shield works wonders against arrows.”
            Nala slumped in exhaustion as the adrenaline from the rage left her. She stood over Brick and shook her head. “Your parents named you wrong. You are not Brick. You are Pincushion,” she said, giving the dwarf a teasing grin as she helped him up, hobgoblin blood dripping from her face.
            Nala wiped sweat and blood from her forehead with her forearm, more just smearing it than cleaning it. “Good job, Meepak,” she said as she saw the little kobold slitting downed goblin throats. The kobold glanced up at hearing his name, but when no one seemed to require anything of him, he resumed slitting throats, pausing now and again to gouge out and eat goblin eyes, his tail wiggling with glee.
            Brick shook his head as the world returned. This was becoming a pattern, and he wasn't a fan. His eyes narrowed slightly at Orklar's comment, before he barked a laugh. "Hah! Oi lad, dat just be meanin' I can drink more!" With Nala's help, he clambered to his feet and glanced around the hall. To her, he grunted dismissively,"Bah!" even as he pulled one of the goblin arrows from his shoulder. His expression was hard at the pain, but his bright, friendly eyes betrayed the good-naturedness of the ribbing. "Dat may be, lass, but at least I be waitin' fer me allies a'fore divin' inta tha fray," followed up with a chuckle.
            Noting all the enemy were down, he began to collect his dispersed weaponry, and any salvageable bolts. "I dunnae be likin' me inopportune nappin'," he commented, "Be nice ta have a sit down fer a few minutes, eh?"
            The pragmatic elf joined Meepak in slitting goblin throats, though he started with the hobgoblins just to make sure there was no trickery involved. He nodded at Brick. "I'm no dwarf but I'll buy one of those drinks for you, Brick. You've earned it today."
            Brick chuckled and returned to the group after collecting his weapons. He clapped Vol on the arm at his comment, a wide grin across his face. "I be takin' ye up on dat, lad!" he replied genuinely with an expansive nod.
            The sounds of goblins and kobolds clashing was soon replaced by yipping. Kobold cheers resounded from the stone chambers to the east as kobolds squabbled over the spoils of the goblins that had fled.
            Finished killing the goblins with Vol, Meepak proudly strutted over to the party, brandishing his sword above his head in victory. "He says now is the time to free their dragon," Dalian translated.
            "We've definitely made an impact here. Whether it's for the better or for the worse I suppose we'll see in a few years." Vol definitely didn't seem too broken up over the loss of a goblin tribe.
            “First things first,” Orklar replied, holding up the goblin key they had found. “Especially if he’s going to hog all the eyeballs.” He cast his baleful eye at Meepak. Meepak caught his look and hurriedly tucked his sword away behind his back, zipping over to peek out from behind one of the columns.
            The half-orc made a quick search of the hobgoblins for any valuables and then carefully took a look into the chamber beyond.
            “Through there and to the right is that locked door,” he said. “My bones are telling me to have a look.”
            In the goblin through-way, kobolds were going crazy looting all the crates, barrels and boxes of goblin spoils. Orklar passed them by easily; they parted around him like water.
            The goblins' practice range was all but abandoned, apart from the kobolds scurrying to and fro with their loot. Lifting the bar from the door, Orklar tried the key he had found in the lock. As he had expected, it fit. The door creaked open with no further protest.
            The squalid miasma of a dungeon met his good eye as he peered into the dark beyond the door. Within the long, low stockade, three sorry-looking kobolds squinted at him sullenly, tied with crude ropes to a large spike rammed into the floor. Farther back, a battered gnome languished inside a rusted iron cage, small even for his frame. Several sets of corroded manacles were connected to the walls, occupied by the occasional crumbling skeleton - and a bruised-looking half-elf.
            The kobolds pricked their ears at the sound of their fellows outside, blinking in disbelief.
            The elven man's head had been locked on the doors when Orklar strode through - the sounds of battle had been ringing in his slightly-pointed ears, leaving him hopeful at the idea that the goblins were finally getting their comeuppance. Mossy eyes followed the half-orc, seemingly not reacting to the man's disfigured features but growing slowly dilated in exuberance. Kobolds were with him ... Was this Half-Orc a leader of the kobolds? No, that didn't make sense ...
            One thing at a time.
            " Hey ... Hey! Aaye!" he called, first in the tongue of men and next in a dialect of the elves, trying to draw attention towards himself. " You, you're not with the goblins, right? Right? Mercenary? Adventurer, maybe?"
            He clacked his shackles against the walls softly, rapping them just enough to get across that he was clearly chained up and not going anywhere anytime soon. " Want to give a fellow a hand, yes?"
            Auburn hair was matted down against the Half-Elf's head - indicative of time spent sweating and with no means to bathe, the oily sheen to his mane weighing it down. A light beard covered over sharp, yet broad features, and above his brow were inked lines of whites, greens, and blues: tribal tattoos that clearly marked him as part of some clan or the other, and his accent was clearly tinged with elvish inflections, but not those common to most "civilized" Tel'Quessir. There was something slightly off about it - a roughened tongue that somehow glided elegantly over each syllable. " I've been trapped here for ... I don't know, I don't know how long," he confessed, shaking his head, " The gnome for longer."
            He indicated the far cage in case Orklar did not see him initially. " Erky, his name, his name is Erky. Been here longer than I ... - Wait!"
            His eyes shot open suddenly, realizing what rescue meant. What it could have meant. " Tal! Shar! Uh, Talgen and Sharwyn Hucrele - they, they were prisoners here with me ... some ... time ago. Gods' Blood! It's so hard to remember how long!"
            The gnome, Erky, had been drowsing in an uncomfortable ball in the tiny cage. On hearing his name, though, he started awake, his eyes locking onto the adventurers as Dal brought his lit staff into the prison, bending so as not to whack his head on the ceiling.
            "Merciful Hills! Thank Gaerdal!" he gasped, clutching at the bars of his cage with hands like twigs. He was so emaciated that he appeared to be mainly nose and ears, but vitality still glittered in his eyes, and there was some strength in his arms as he tugged at his cage door.
            The Half-Elf fought against his restraints in anger, pulling at them in a vain attempt to rip them from the wall, but to no avail - the same result as countless times before, if the marks upon his wrists were anything to go by.
            " They're my cousins, they were captured here ... I think over a month ago? At least? I, I had tried to find them and only wound up snared myself. Gaahhh, Nadorhuanrim! Little green infestations!" he spit and cursed in common and elvish, " I was ambushed by goblins and imprisoned here. But they took Tal and Shar, they took them and another one away - Please, did you find any trace of them? Anything at all?" A light sheen had formed upon his brow, his features stretched in apprehension and hope in equal measures.
            Brick followed Orklar, at least for something to do. When the lock clicked, he grinned widely, lifting his twin axes in anticipation of battle. The door swung open to reveal a prison of some sort, the dwarf's straw-haired and bearded head poking around the door with an inquisitive "Eh?"
            "Ah," he amended with a lamenting shake of his head as he strode more fully through the open portal. "Ye lads be in sad shape, aye. But at least bettah then them sorry sods," he said as he inclined an axe towards one of the skeletons. "Yer key work on'im?" he asked Orklar.
            “Ha!” Orklar exclaimed into the room, glad his bones hadn’t lead him astray. He surveyed the scene and listened to the prisoner prattle before answering Brick’s commentary.
            “I don’t know. If he’s dumb enough to come down here alone,” he said. “He could be more danger than he’s worth.” Then registering the kobold prisoners fully, he leaned back out the doorway.
            “Meepak!” he summoned the scaled cutthroat. Orklar motioned the little creature in to bring his chained brethren up to speed and hopefully to settle them down. Meepak scuttled over to the tied kobolds and began sawing at their ropes, while the kobolds began to yip with excitement and dawning glee.
            As Orklar moved into the room to check on the gnome, he drew up, registering a few key words the half-elf had said in his spray of speech. The big half-orc was festooned with gear at the moment as he lumbered over, having scooped up as much of the goblin loot as he could before the kobolds ran roughshod over it.
            “Lucky you,” he said to the half-elf. “The Lady Hucrele hired us on to find your missing kin.” But then his lone eye squinted in assessment. “Though she didn’t go to mentioning you.”
            Said Half-Elf raised his brows in surprise at the news, before they hastily furrowed as Draugrim spit upon the ground in anger.
            " Hah! Old Witch!" he roared in defiance of the not-present elderly matron, " I'm sure she also 'failed' to mention my .. How did she put it again? 'Savage, Knife-Eared, Barbarian of a father'? Or her own sister that birthed me? Eh?"
            He growled with a feral sound in his throat, shaking his head at the revelation. In truth, it hurt - his chest tightened at the notion that he had risked life and limb for his family's sake and his own aunt couldn't even bother to mention his name in a Missing Persons poster. What, then, did Draugrim have to do just to earn the wretched bat's recognition?
            " Aunt Kerowyn and I are ... not exactly on good terms," he explained slowly, still processing the idea that his own family member had well and truly abandoned him, " I set out here after the Shining Swords had been missing for some time. I had written my cousins, you see, as they adventured, and their last letter mentioned this place. I hadn't heard from them for tendays afterwards, and so set out to find them. Now, here I am, and they are missing yet again."
            He didn't rightly enjoy being judged by his (he hoped) rescuers, but Draugrim admitted inwardly that he didn't rightly have another way out of his shackles. Sneering at the unfairness of it all, his shoulders finally relented, leaving his back sagging against the cold wall.
            " By all The Hells, I've no need to explain myself - I am clearly not a goblin, I am clearly imprisoned here, and my family are still missing. If Aunt Kerowyn sent you here to find them, then at least let me join you: I can fight, and I've a talent for some spellwork. You clearly could at least use one more body for goblin arrows to be aimed at, eh? Eh?"
            He winced as his shoulder slipped a little too low, letting out an audible pop that was clearly discomforting. He shrugged it off, his voice remaining firm and rushing, like a gale through a sea of leaves. " I came here to find Tal and Shar. If you came here for that too, then our goals align. If Aunt Kerowyn promised you coin or whatever else that serpent still has to offer, it's yours and yours alone - if you're here in the name of gold and gold alone, I won't take a copper of her handout.."
            Draugrim relaxed a bit, a wave of depression seeping over him as the past days' recollections came forth: of the last time he had seen his cousins dragged from their chains. He only hoped it was not too late. " Just ... please," he asked for sympathy, the wind taken out of his sails as days of torture and undernourishment finally overcame his burst of adrenaline, " They're family. I can't leave them behind."
            Recovering from her exhaustion, Nala saw Orklar open a door. She hefted her axe in readiness and walked over, peering at the prisoners inside. “Well, as long as you promise to stand in front of Brick and catch all the arrows he likes to take, you can come with us,” the little bright red haired gnome told the half-elf with a grin.
            Vol had been frowning at the cages and shackles but he smiled at Nala and nodded at the half-elf. "You'll have to race Brick to the arrows. You'd almost think he's an elf, he loves getting arrows so much." The tall, slim, pale haired elf nodded at Orklar and held up a hand to catch the keys. "Let me see if that key fits this cage, Orklar."
            Brick frowned at the ribbing he was recieving, his hands on his hips now that he had stowed his axes. But he quickly barked a good-natured "Ha!" with a grin.
            "Ain't me fault dem gobbies be seein' me as tha greater threat," he countered with a sparkle in his eye.
            “They just can’t stand your smell,” Nala quiped back. “And that’s saying something for goblins!” She grinned at the dwarf.
            "Aye, lass," he nodded sagely with a returning grin. "Gobbies dunnae like a fine smellin' svelte Dwarf such as I."
            Nala walked over to the gnome. “Old One,” she said respectfully, with the reverence any plains tribesman gave to an elder. “Know that I have treated your captors more cruelly than they treated you, and they no longer draw breath.” She looked for a way to free him from his cage.
            "I'm not that old, lass," Erky smiled at Nala, his eyes brimming with tears of joy and relief. He brushed them away with his hand, still curled into a cramped ball by necessity. "Just dirty - and hungry!" At closer inspection, it appeared he was right - he must have been middle-aged at most, and he was thin as a rail, his clothes hanging off him. His skin was darker than that of the gnomes Orklar had seen before, but still pale from a long time spent out of the sun. His smile turned predatory as he glared out the door they had come through. "But it does my heart good to know that some goblins paid for this."
            “You’re over thirty,” Nala told him with a grin. “Old!” She gave him a wink.
            He groaned as he crawled out of his newly-unlocked cage, stretching stiff limbs. "Don't forget my friend over there," he nodded in Draugrim's direction as he struggled to stand, stamping his feet to get feeling back into them. He stood a bare inch or two taller than Nala, well under the ceiling that forced the taller members of the group to crouch.
            "I'm Erky Timbers, by the way. I don't suppose any of you have a bit of armor or a weapon to lend me? Not that I doubt that you've dealt with the goblins, it's just that they have a way of popping up everywhere... as I found when they first caught me," Erky said ruefully. "I'd just feel better knowing I have something to face the Durbuluks with, if there are any stragglers. You're... ah... working with the kobolds?" he asked carefully, darting his eyes in Meepak's direction.
            The kobolds Meepak freed immediately scrambled away down the corridor, and Meepak, seeing nothing of interest in the stockade, followed them out - though he paused at the door, impatiently yapping at Dal.
            Brick regarded the freed prisoners and furrowed his brow in thought. "Dem gobbies had swords an' wot we can give 'em... though I dunnae be thinkin tha armor be fittin'... 'cept mebbe tha gnome."
            “There are plenty of goblin weapons lying around for the taking, Old Elky,” Nala said. “More our size than anything they could give you. If that doesn’t suit you, I have a warhammer and shield for backup.”
            "I don't want to take what's yours from you," Erky shook his head with a smile. "The goblin stuff will do fine, once it's wiped off."
            Orklar was amenable to relinquishing the jail key now that the mystery had been solved. As he watched the general good will take hold of the room, he registered that some were looking for a way to defend themselves. He shambled over and offered up what extras he carried.
            He offered out a longsword and steel shield to Draugrim, and a longbow with arrows if the half-elf showed interest. “If we’re going to share steel, we should share names at least. I’m Orklar, this is Brick and Nala. They’re the ones you’ll be chasing after into the fray. The others are Nominis in black, the wizard is Dalian, and the elf goes by Vol.”
            " Draugrim," the newcomer offered, giving his hand to Orklar and clasping the half-orc at the forearm if the gesture was accepted, " Draugrim Wildmane-Hucrele; mae govannen, Orklar."
            He nodded to each of the others around him, rubbing at his sore wrists and stretching his aching back. " My thanks to you all. Erky and I surely would have perished had you not come along. I ... "
            He paused. Swallowed hard, noting how dry his throat was. " I only hope Tal and Shar are fairing better. Heh - I'm sure they are."
            Draugrim nodded, mostly to himself. " I'm sure they are."
            To the weapons, the Half-Elf hefted the long blade and shield into his hands, testing the weight of the sword. He stepped back to keep his distance from the others as he gave the weapon a few practice swings, familiarizing himself with the steel's balance. It was clear from the way he held the weapon and how easily it flowed in his grasp that Draugrim at the very least had a history of combat training.
            " Hm. Not entirely what I'm accustomed to these days, but I know my way around a sword," he affirmed, awkwardly figuring out how to tuck the shield against himself in conjunction with the weapon. " This, on the other hand ... will take some work, but I'll manage - thank you again."
            He tucked the sword under his arm to wave off the bow with a wry grin. " I may have the ears, but not the hands for it. I'm far better off with 'chasing into the fray', as you put it. If one of you can put it to use better, please do - if not, I'll carry it, yes?"
            To Erky, Orklar only offered a steel shield, everything else being considerably oversized. “We’re going deeper before we go up,” he said to the gnome by way of clarification. Then he removed and offered a split of a trail ration and his waterskin to both non-kobold prisoners.
            Despite the dryness of his mouth and the way his lips cracked, Draugrim made sure that Erky took the water and food first - the gnome had suffered far worse and far longer at the hands of the goblins - the Tiri Kitor was not about to put his own needs before that of the tribe's.
            "I'm afraid it's a bit oversized for me," Erky admitted as he held the shield that was, for him, nearly as large as he was. "One of those ugly Durbuluk shields will do. But thank you kindly." He hefted the shield up with a little effort, his scrawny arms nevertheless able to hold it above his head for Orklar to reclaim. He did, however, scarf down the offered food despite its distinctly orcish nature. "Thank you for that," he told Orklar with relief in his voice. "It's been days since we were fed."
            Nominis nods at the introductions already preparing nicknames for the new people. "Elder will work for the gnome. For the half-elf...Moss for the eyes? Cousin? Would Unwanted be too much? Yeah, probably...So, Cousin Moss it is"
            "We still have rooms to explore, Cousin, Elder. There are those dragon doors too. We're fresh, so we should probably go with it. You will be safe with kobolds, they expect their dragon back." Nominis doesn't wait to see if they agree or not. He knows it will take some time before those not seeing efficiency recognize that the prisoners will not be able to follow them for some time. But he cannot stay in the crowded room.
            Nominis fades into the shadows, deepening the darkness around himself. He goes to check the rooms they just ran through, just in case Orklar missed something.. And then continues all the way to the smoky hall and the room beyond.
            " Cousin ..?" Draugrim's brows lifted a little, turning towards the others for an explanation to the strange greeting but ultimately shrugging it off. Freshly equipped and freshly angry at his captors now that he finally had the means to do something about it, the Half-Elf brandished his new blade and felt the heat of his skin rising. He was free, he was armed, and he was furious that he had been delayed anywhere near as long as he had. Yet, he urged his rage to settle for a moment to get his bearings.
            " So ... Kobolds?" he asked slowly, unsure, " Talk of a dragon? What has been going on in this place, and what, exactly, are you all here for? Nominis speaks of returning a dragon but you said that Aunt Kerowyn hired you. Mind catching a storyteller up to speed?"
            Orklar sniffed the air and grunted displeasure. He moved to vacate the prison but spoke as he slowly walked. “No time for tales,” he said. “More goblins about, to be sure. The wizard speaks the dragon tongue, so we negotiated safe passage through kobold territory in exchange for helping them retrieve their dragon, which the goblins stole.” Then he lowered his tone a bit and added, “We’ll see just how it plays out yet.”
            The big half-orc surveyed the throwing range but paused and pointed a big finger at the northern door. The gesture clearly was a suggested course for them to follow, as they hadn’t tried this door yet.
            “And we were hired to find your kinsmen,” he continued, addressing Draugrim. “A party of four to hear tell. Though…we believe we’ve found one of them already, fallen. Name of Karakas.”
            Brick grunted and nodded as the newly freed prisoners armed themselves. In the back of his mind, his military training told him they were still unknowns and putting his back to them would spell trouble. He shook those thoughts away; they were living in squalor for untold days. Turning on one's liberators rarely fared well.
            "Oi," he grunted, inclining his head toward the door, "if'n yer ready wit dem arms, might as well see wot's wot, aye?" He then ambled out of the room, twin axes at the ready.
            Vol nodded. "Ready when the rest of you are."
            The new Half-Elf had picked up a piece of armor far too large for the smaller goblins and kobolds, noting with disdain the cruel art upon it.
            " Heh. Think they'll mistake me as one of their own with this on?" he jested wryly to no one in particular, his sardonic tone clearly enunciating that he hated the idea of needing to wear goblinoid protection. Yet, with his own Elven armor taken from him, Draugrim was nothing if not practical. Setting the shield and sword aside for the moment, the man threw on the chest piece, vambraces, and crude greaves, noting that they were at least solid if nothing else: he could feel the weight of the strips of metal riveted between the leather front and backing, though some of it was rather loose and ill fitting. The gauntlets were tossed - too large, and he preferred to have his hands free as it were.
            If for nothing other than vanity, Draugrim took the extra moment to rub the dull edge at the bottom of his new blade over the painted mug on his armor, scratching the color away until he was satisfied with it. After being tortured at the hands of the little green minions, he wasn't exactly keen on them, let alone having their imagery anywhere on his person.
            " Right. This'll have to do until I recover what is mine."
            He had been rather quiet about Karakas - sadly he had already known the Ranger's fate - the more he thought of it, the more he wondered whether Tal and Shar were safe, and it was frankly a mindset he did not want to be in. The only thing he wanted at the forefront of his thoughts was getting his family and getting the Hells out of the accursed citadel before things worsened.
            Erky, too, had tried to spit-polish away the leering goblin face on his leather armor, but like the face on his new goblin-sized wooden shield, it remained stubbornly put. He grimaced, putting them on, but he hefted the shortsword and javelins as though he knew how to use them.
            "Gaerdal, forgive me," he sighed, following the others.
            Armed, angry, and spoiling for a chance to get back at his tormenters, Draugrim fell into line, brandishing sword and shield with grim determination. Under his breath he was speaking; reciting.

" And lo went they into fire,
Oaks that feared no flame.
The Forest fell before them,
Only The Brave Remained."

            Nominis goes to check the rooms they just ran through, just in case Orklar missed something. And then continues all the way to the smoky hall and the room beyond. The through-way, on examination, was filled with foodstuffs and other spoils of caravans, including things that most people wouldn't consider food. Squinting at one barrel, Nominis thought he understood the goblin writing as "elf pudding." Whatever that was, he left it to the kobolds swarming over everything.
            The smoky hall of dragon-columns had not yet been invaded by the cautious (some might say cowardly) kobolds. The smoke scratched at his throat and made his eyes water as he yanked open the door to the goblin town beyond. Dozens of old, young, and too-cowardly-to-fight goblins were running everywhere, panicking. When they spotted Nominis, they began to scream in earnest, pelting him with garbage as they ran about like headless chickens.
            Yelling in goblin, Nominis "advises" the mob of their options and closes the door. "You will all be slaves to the kobolds! They are coming! Run for your lives!"
            Their screaming panic was increased tenfold by Nominis' halting threat, but none of them tried to get past him - they were carting their junk about, trying to find places to hide in the multi-storied shantytown, and, in some cases, just running about yelling their heads off.
            Returning to the group, he nods again to the "Cousin" and takes his usual point position, the area around the door darkening visibly as he approaches. "There are goblin non-combatants there in the main room. I told them to clear it before we revisit."
            “Is there such a thing as goblin noncombatants?” Nala grunted, hefting her axe. “Though it could take all day to kill them all,” she admitted. “We could see if they have anything nice. So which way? I vote we don’t leave gobbies behind us. Get the kobolds set to police them.”
            “Goblin home that way?” Orklar parroted as he heard Nominis’ report. “Unlikely they’d keep the dragon so close to the young. This way’s better then. One of you tell the kobolds they can reach their territory through that smoky hall. Give directions and maybe convince them to hold in the smoke hall for now.”
            "I'll see what I can do," Dalian promised, going over to tap Meepak's shoulder. He began to growl and hiss in that strange language, and Meepak nodded rapidly. The kobold shouted, and a handful of kobolds broke off from hauling away the food in the goblin storage room to explore the smoky hall beyond, yipping with excitement at all the dead goblins.
            The big half-orc turned to Erky and said, “Sticking with us or trying to find your way out alone?”
            "I've had enough time on my own," Erky told him, shaking his head. "It was a hard lesson to learn, but I learned it in the end. Gaerdal doesn't give us more than we can shoulder. Let Him guide you, and..." Spotting Orklar's dwindling interest, he finished, "...and you can't go wrong. I'd be a terrible priest if I let you head off against the goblins on your own." He glanced at Meepak. The look was not a friendly one. "Despite the company you keep."
            Then Orklar said, “Nominis runs point followed by Nala and Brick. Draugrim, maybe come in second rank with me? Erky you stay further back with Vol and Dalian until we can find you some protection.”
            With that, the gear laden Orklar prepared to shamble deeper into the citadel.
            "Protection?!" Erky sputtered, following the half-orc. "I'm coming along to protect you!" In the end he decided that rearguard was not the worst position... or so he told them, while glaring suspiciously at the kobolds.
            They filed up to the corridor beyond the target range, throwing open the door across from it - only to find another goblin nest, the firepit cold and the filthy sleeping furs empty.
            Orklar cast a baleful glance into the raunchy chamber and said, “Not really worth the trouble, unless risking filth fever for six copper is your idea of fun.”
            He started lumbering with his slow gait toward the door at the end of the hall. “Let’s try down here,” he said, but he did not open the door, waiting for the others to assume the usual approach positions.
            Brick grunted in the general direction of the chamber, but otherwise paid it no heed. There were no enemies nor treasure within, so it didn't warrant his attention. He trundled further along the corridor with Orklar, assuming the same formation as before. "Oi, if'n ye louts be ready, dis door be itchin' ta be opened, aye?"
            Nala wrinkled her nose at the goblin stench in the room. On the way to the next door, she kicked around the furs to see if anything valuable fell out amidst the mess before she took up position.
            Nominis took the lead, and as the rest of the party walked after him, Nala entered the goblin's nest to poke about a bit in case there was anything worth taking. Tattered hides lay about a much-used firepit, along with garbage and the half-eaten legs of animals probably best left unidentified. Battered cooking equipment lay mixed indescriminately with broken bits of arms and armor. It didn't look like there was much of value, even to a goblin.
            Nominis approached the far door with his cloak of shadows... and was surprised when the floor opened under his feet. Already fairly badly wounded, he leapt for solid ground too late. Crashing to the floor ten feet below, he knocked his head hard against the stone. His blue eyes drifted shut as the world darkened, even for him.
            Brick and Orklar, at the front of the rest of the party, could see a narrow walkway, no more than a foot wide, along the rim of the right side of the pit, leading to the door at the end of the hall.
            “That’s why we stay in the second rank,” Orklar said to Draugrim out of the side of his mouth after Nominis disappeared into the pit.
            “You alright?” he called as he leaned over the opening to check. “Mm, no, that looks considerably less than alright.” He exhaled.
            “I don’t suppose anyone could lift him out of there before he bleeds to death?” the gear laden half-orc asked, glancing around and noticing for the first time how many very short folks were present.
            Brick had already shrugged off his pack and was rummaging around in it. He produced a length of rope which he carefully coiled before tying it around his waist.
            "Oi, good job findin tha trap, lad," he commented down to Nominis. He then turned to Orklar, the largest among them, and handed him the rope. "I'ma drop in an' grab tha lad. Ye haul me up. Nala can help if'n ye be needin'."
            Nala winced as Nominis fell through the floor, hearing the thud as he hit the bottom of the pit. She helped with the rope to lower Brick down and retrieve the shadow man, and the orc worked his mojo to revive Nominis.
            With a bit of effort, Brick retrieved Nominis, and Orklar worked his cold magic over the bard's still form. Frost formed on the floor around him, making Dal exclaim softly - he'd never get tired of the strange sight. Feeling deeply chilled, enough to wake memories of the shadow-world, Nominis woke, no worse off than before, but for a sore spot on his head.
            " Well that was an adventure," Draugrim sighed, relieved that one of his rescuers did not so suddenly perish right after saving him. He wasn't rightly sure he could live with that on his conscious.
            " If any of the rest of you are carrying wounds, speak now," he advised, tucking his unsheathed blade under his forearm and holding up a hand," I can work the Weave of mending and restoration. The goblins may have taken much from me but they couldn't take my mother's teachings."
            He cast a baleful eye at the trap, noting that it quite literally dwarfed some of the other members of the group. He wondered what his parents would do in such a circumstance: for as much as he had heard their stories night and day, he himself had never actually been in these sorts of situations before.
            " Think we'll have any further trouble clearing this? Or shall we find another way around?"
            Draugrim shifted his shoulders: the goblinoid armor was uncomfortable, and he longed for his own coat again. A flash of anger crossed his brows as he wondered what his captors were doing with his possessions, but it soon passed.
            " Also, I think I should take point," he half-suggested, half-inferred, " I've an eye and ears for these sorts of things and I've been watching the little bastards go about for some time. This place can't be much more dangerous than the forests of the Vale."
            A beat.
            " I assume."
            No one took Draugrim up on his offer of healing, but no one disputed that he should take point either, so he moved forward along the catwalk, hugging the wall to avoid falling off the narrow ledge into the pit. On reaching the door, he found it locked.
            “Mend flesh, can you?” Orklar said to the departing Draugrim. “Good, good. I can’t always keep up with the bloodlust of this lot.”
            " Fury isn't always the worst thing," Draugrim answered flatly, a bit distracted while he peered at the door they had come across. " So long as it's applied correctly."
            The Half-Elf gave the door a try. First a push, then a pull, then a shrug. " Not budging," he advised to the group, beginning to inspect the locking mechanism.
            When he learned that the door ahead was locked, the big half-orc looked around and said, “Who wound up with that key? Let’s get it over to him and see if it works here as well, hmm? I don’t want to be squeezing around that hole unless I have to.”
            Nominis gets up and feels at his head. "Thank you, One-eye. I could use another heal, Cousin. I can also open the door, I have some experience with traps. Obviously, not perfect, but hey, in The Great Dark no one digs the holes, they fill up quickly and it is dangerous to come back and check on them."
            " Hm?" Draugrim asked, looking over his shoulder and away from the lock. As Nominis's words finally registered in the slight points of his ears, he understood he was talking to him: 'Cousin' did appear to be the grey-skinned man's moniker for him. " Ah, yes, hold still, then."
            Laying his newly acquired sword on the ground carefully, Draugrim approached Nominis and lifted his hand, flexing it: bruises were apparent all across his knuckles and fingers from where his torturers had applied cruel devices, but the fingers flexed well enough. Closing his eyes, he reached into the teachings of his parents, recalling tales and stories, pulling forth on The Weave with his very voice. Poetry flowed forth, deep and resonating with a touch of something not entirely Mortal, and his hand laid onto Nominis.

" Rejoice, my Comrades! the Warrior did call,
Two fingers of Dawn! Two breaks in the Wall!
Their hearts grew bold at the sight,
Tethadriel's glaive reflecting sun,
And the eight felt renewed as one."

            Nala straightened up when Dalian yipped out a conversation with Meepak. “Kobolds in trouble, then lets help ‘em,” the gnome said, hefting her axe and heading toward where the kobolds were gathering.
            "Aye," Brick affirmed with a nod, following Nala. Vol silently followed along to face the goblins again.
            Nominis shakes his head "Why would we go and help kobolds now? Didn't we help and bled enough by dislodging goblins? Let them fight for the territory and establish new borders by themselves."
            He follows others, eyeing the doors that don't open. "There were doors we bypassed earlier. I'd like our new locksmith to look at them. And maybe the dragon is behind these doors" - he motions toward the trapped door. "You don't trap doors to your bathroom, but to your treasury."
            The new Half-Elf scratched at his beard, the hairs wiry and scraggly from some amount of time being left unkempt. He wasn't entirely sure on the situation within the Citadel, to be perfectly frank: Kobolds were expanding their territory? He had assumed they were just looking for this dragon of theirs, and from what he understood on Kobolds and Dragons, the alliance the party had made with the little creatures may very well have been temporary at best. To Draugrim, the matters of Kobolds and Goblins were not his concern: finding his family was.
            To that end, was it not the Goblins that had taken his cousins? Perhaps the little green bastards had an inkling on where Tal and Shar were, and would be more apt to answer questions now that he could place them at the business end of a sword. He regarded the blade for a moment, sneering: he much preferred the elven glaive he had carried into the wretched ruins, but this would do for now. His Tiri Kitor cousin, Anar'dulin, had always been able to best him whenever he tried to hide behind a shield: lessons drilled in with bruises and broken bones alike. Perhaps that was why his knuckles were white upon his bulwark's handle.
            " I'd rather not leave a foe at our back," Draugrim reasoned to Nominis, " And maybe we'll be able to find a key or some information on what lays ahead. Last thing we need right now is to venture into unfamiliar territory and have nowhere safe to fall back to. Better to clear out these goblins while we still have the help."
            He grinned. A wild grin. A red grin, as a sense of urgency and battle swept into his pose. " Besides."
            Draugrim let the sword spin in his hand once, feeling its arc, its weight, muscles tensing even as he recalled the necessary skills to fight with the long blade. " I've been getting poked and cut by these savage monsters for some time, now. It'd be ... cathartic, to get to do a little cutting of my own."
            Orklar tilted his face skyward and sighed, though the effort was more theatrical than genuine. He muttered a quick prayer to the dead gods listening and shuffled after the group as they moved back toward the meat grinder that was the goblin kobold conflict.
            He found himself trundling next to Erky, and he spoke reassurances to the small adventurer. “We pit one side against the other,” he said. “Whatever we can manage to navigate these bloody halls with minimal casualties…to us at least.”
            Orlkar took another deep breath and then said, “You watch though. We haven’t come across any shaman or witch or mystic yet, but my bones tell me were going to before long. Keep a sharp eye out.”
            "I'll do my part," Erky agreed, though Orklar could see him lagging. The gnome licked dry, cracked lips. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to drink on you?"
            Nala glanced back at Erky. She fell back to the old gnome and offered him her water skin. “Drink your fill, Elder,” she said respectfully.
            Erky accepted the waterskin gratefully, chugging down half of it before tugging at Draugrim's sleeve and offering him the rest. "Bless you, youngster," he grinned at Nala, looking better already.
            After a quick look through the rapidly emptying storage room for anything that might be used as a lockpick, the party approached the door to the goblin town. The kobolds were busily stacking eyeless goblin corpses around the closed door as a barrier to fight from behind for when it opened, and as a warning. The reddish cast to the light from the torches in the crude wall sconces made everything seem bloody. The hall looked like... well, a battlefield, with smears of blood leading to the goblin redoubt the kobolds had built.
            "Meepak says the goblins have barricaded the door," Dal explained, coughing into his sleeve, his eyes watering from the smoke. "The kobolds plan to starve them out, since they think the goblins are trapped."
            Nala chuckled. “Nice,” she commented.
            Brick grunted and nodded at the grisly barricade. "Fer tha long siege. Aye, best way ta defeat a citadel. Keep tha choke point an' starve tha rest out." He turned his eyes to the other doors in the hallway. "Oi," he said, turning to his companions, "Ye check them other doors?" he waved an axe vaguely to the other two doors on the north side of the hall. As if to answer his own question, he trundled to the furthest west door and tried it. This door opened readily enough, and he looked down a short hall to see that it was crossed by another, dog-legged hall further on.
            As Brick went to check the far west door, Nala went to the other one, checking to be sure it was locked, but not opening it, and pressing her ear to it to see if she could hear any activity on the other side. She didn't hear anything - but she could tug the door open, just a smidge.
            “Are the goblins trapped, though?” Nala asked. “We don’t know all the twists and turns in this place. Could they get behind us?”
            "Goblins are tricky little bastards," Erky growled. "I wouldn't sleep tight without making sure they can't."
            The new Half-Elf let the Dwarf go towards the other door as he instead observed the full-on warzone the Citadel had become. His eyes squinted through the smoke, blinking rapidly to keep themselves moist, while he took stock of the development of an honest-to-gods siege.
            " Would the goblins be open to surrender?" he asked of Dal to ask Meepak, though the question was as much for the group: they had been the ones fighting them after all.
            Both Erky and Meepak looked like they had eaten something bitter at the very suggestion.
            " ... Would the kobolds even let them surrender?" Draugrim quickly mused afterwards, unsure on the current state of Kobold-Goblin hostilities. While the goblins had taken him prisoner, he was not so sure the tiny draconic creatures had a similar policy in place for their enemies.
            " I'd rather a chance to speak to one of the green pipsqueaks. Find out where in the Nine Hells they took my cousins. Can't really do that if they're all dead or unwilling to admit when a fight is over." He scratched at his beard, thrusting his chin to the barricades and the enemies beyond. " Guess I have to admire that sorta tenacity, though. Here I am talking of surrender when I know full well that no such plan would ever be on my mind."
            Nominis looks at the greasly scene with equanimity. And shakes his head at Bricks door check. "I still think we should leave them to it. We have other things to search for. And maybe Cousin can open those cold doors? If anything says ice dragon behind me, it is cold doors."
            "Ice dragon? In the Shaar?" Erky exclaimed, sounding doubtful. "How did it end up here?"
            Orklar turned away from the kobold goblin barricade with a grimace. He hoped they didn’t expect him to clamber over that mess to get into the heart of goblin territory. But that could wait, there were other options yet.
            “Pick one! This one here,” he called out, pointing to the right door. “It might run adjacent to that locked door.” He indicated the one further down the smoky hall and herded them toward the right open door with his bulk.
            “Nominis, Draugrim,” he said. “C’mon, lead the way, but be mindful of traps. We’ve seen too many for my like.”
            Brick grunted and then shrugged as Orklar gravitated to the door Nala had gone to. He followed, leaving his door yawning open. "Oi," he said to nobody in particular, an axe waving in the general direction of the kobolds, "dem lizard-faces should barricade what door we ain't choosin. Use tha path fer a bottleneck an' not let dem gobbies git a'hind. I ain't be knowin their jibber-jabber, so someone should be tellin dem."
            Nala glanced over as everyone started traipsing toward her door. She opened her door just a little, enough to peek through, though hopefully not enough to notice if anyone were on the other side. Best to know what was on the other side of the door if they could.
            When she opened the door a crack, she could see that it opened on another short hallway. Opening it further revealed that there was no visible door to the locked room on the right of the passage, but it doglegged around to the left.
            Dalian glanced at Brick. "I can tell Meepak." He turned and clicked and groaned and yipped at the kobold in the dragon tongue, and Meepak grunted a reply. He called to the kobolds around the barricade, but seemed to get into an argument with them.
            "The kobolds don't want to weaken their barricade to pile a few corpses in front of the other door," Dal translated after a minute. "They don't think there are enough corpses." He shuddered a little at the grisly notion.
            Nominis and Draugrim carefully ventured down the hallway... only to find that it connected to the hallway from the other door. What possible purpose that could have was lost to time.
            At the end of the larger hallway, there was an opening to the right.
            Orklar leaned into the doorway, his single eye gazing down the length of unblemished wall. He grunted his dissatisfaction at not seeing a way to double back on the area with the locked doors.
            “So that door leads to your hallway,” he said motioning left, then looking back into the hazy room the other direction. “But that door doesn’t. Ridiculous.” He grunted again, shaking his head.
            “Well, c’mon,” he motioned ahead, encouraging folks to follow along and see where this random hallway went. “Step where they step when you can.”
            "Aye," Brick affirmed Orklar's assessment. "We canna git innae them locked doors yet lad. Lack of options, aye?" He flashed a grin, "I be sure we be findin another key o' sommit," he added before trundling into the single-file hallway.
            The new Half-Elf stepped carefully as the party traversed unfamiliar territory, weapon and shield at the ready in case of a sudden ambush. He kept shifting in his armor, feeling the leather as unfamiliar and uncomfortable, but altogether he was glad to be with it than without.
            " It seems like this place became a full scale war zone," Draugrim remarked as the party traveled, his keen eyes and reflexes on the search for traps and other dangers, " Seems like you lot have really stirred the pot here."
            He paused. Thought.
            " Or I suppose the stew was already prepped and you just lit the logs," he observed more properly. " Still - I cannot thank you all enough for the rescue. I may not have much to repay you all with, but I can promise you've my help with whatever comes after we rescue my cousins, that's for sure."
            Draugrim continued his slow, measured pace, recalling the lessons in his mother's journal - quick to get ahead just meant the faster you'd be dead. He scowled at the thought of the goblins owning the book, though - something precious to him and his family in the hands of their grubby claws filled him with cold fury. The sooner he recovered his own possessions, the better.
            The tall, lanky elf had been quiet as he'd followed along but nodded at that. "Kobolds and goblins living this close to each other? It was only a matter of time before they went to war. And sooner rather than later, I expect. Neither race is known for their... patience."
            "I'm sure there will be any number of things to help with, after this. You may be volunteering for more than you anticipate."
            Draugrim found no traps, only a long hall that ended in two doors, one on a convex wall and the other in the wall to his left. Behind the latter door, he could hear the burble of goblin voices. Behind the former he could just make out voices as well, but not nearly as many. Neither door opened when he tried the handles, though the door with the hubbub seemed to be blocked by something rather than locked.
            “So what purpose does this serve?” Nala asked, looking a the two doors. She hadn’t really grown up around buildings. “So do we try and bust down that locked door, or check out this one?”
            The others seemed to want to move on, so Nala fell into place beside Brick. “More goblins,” she queried.
            " More goblins it sounds like - more behind the barricaded door than the convex one," Draugrim confirmed, his pointed ear against the barricaded door, pulling away slowly with a shake of his head.
            " We'd have to smash through this door," he advised of the one that was clearly blocked on the other side, " And I don't know about the rest of you but that would probably put us at odds with whatever is behind this door."
            He pointed at the one that was merely locked.
            " I'll see if I can't finesse that one open," he advised, tucking his sword under his armpit and kneeling before the lock, seeing if he could find a way to manipulate it. " Better to deal with whatever is behind here first - even if we make a racket, the other side would need to remove whatever they jammed the door up with before they could come at us."
            What he wouldn't have given for a decent set of picks and probes, or even just a crowbar to rip the entire assembly off. Realizing he had little else, Draugrim tried to use his gifted sword as a means to force the mechanism to open, carefully wedging the blade's tip into the lock and seeing if he could jam the pins inside with it.
            Brick trundled up to the convex door, eyeing the side door on his way. He had an inkling of what might be behind it, if his dungeon sense told him anything. Of course, it could be something else entirely. He hadn't seen the room on the other side. He didn't pay it mind, but what Daugrin was doing did draw his attention.
            "Oi lad, dunnae wreck yer weapon onnit. 'Old up a min." He shrugged off his pack and rummaged within; a few tools tumbling out. He handed a hammer and pitons to the half-elf. "Try dis, lad. I ain't got nuttin else more useful, but better'n yer sword."
            Draugrim grinned in appreciation, setting his weapon aside and hefting the hammer and climbing spikes in its place.
            " That oughta work," he agreed, " Diola Lle, Brick."
            He had worked with much less when back in the company of his cousins during their younger days - they had been right terrors around the Vale where improvisation was often the key to avoiding a beating from his Aunt. With care, Draugrim jostled one of the pitons back into the lock, wedging it upwards to find the pins, then another in to help keep the pins aloft, but every time he tried to finagle the hammer into the equation he found he couldn't get it quite right - he needed three hands and only had two.
            " Oi, Nominis!" he called in a quiet voice, " Tula sinome, I need your help, friend."
            He shifted aside to give the man some room, showing what his attempt had resulted in: two wedged pitons and no open lock.
            " If we give it enough force, we should be able to snap the mechanism inside," he explained, " But I can't get a good amount of pressure on it from this angle - grab that hammer and help drive in this top spike while I push up the bottom one, weera? Together we should be able to crack this open."
            There was a loud crunk as Draugrim, with Nominis' aid, struck hammer to piton within the lock. A few small metal pieces tumbled from the keyhole as he withdrew the pitons, clinking on the stone floor.
            The voices behind the door grew alarmed, resulting in rapid shouts, then silence.
            Orklar winced at the ruckus and glanced carefully behind him, expecting a number of vermin to come investigate the source of the disturbance. Locks and mechanisms were not his forte. He would readily admit to it, but this was considerably less finesse than he was accustomed to where opening doors was concerned.
            “Well?” he asked.
            Meepak also looked pained, judging by his narrowed eyes and lip-curled snout. No other kobolds came running, and no goblins appeared either, much to Erky's evident relief.
            Brick frowned as the lock broke, and the door remained shut. During the attempt to open it, he had repacked his pack and shrugged it back on. "Oi," he said, hefting his axes, "Ye wan it open? Cuz I can git it open."
            The tall elf laughed, the merry sound incongruous in the grim passageway. "If we're abandoning finesse altogether, we can burn out the lock." He swirled his fingers and splashed acid onto the floor off to one side. "Put them together and we can probably get through the door faster."
            Skills failed. Magic saves the day. "My turn. No need for acid. Be ready in 20 breaths." Nominis puts both hands near the lock and whispers something. To the door? Shadows? Who knows. But threads of shadow flow into the mechanics and quiet cracking can be heard. When the lock finally cracks he motions for the group to get ready and he readies to call upon his shadow weave.

            Between Vol and Nominis, the door stood no chance. Nominis swung it open, shadows swarming around him like a halo of snakes -
            - and he and Draugrim were met by a rain of javelins and arrows, as a pile of goblins surged forth, the foremost waving rusty curved blades (in the back, Nominis spotted one they'd fought before, a flat-nosed ugly that had apparently run off to tell on them). Blocked by each other as well as stymied by the cover the doorway provided, they jostled like rats crawling over each other just as Nominis' shadows crawled over them; the goblins were frothing to get a bite of the intruders. The silence that had been beyond the door was shattered by their bloodthirsty and desperate screams, shouted orders from the hobgoblins behind them - and from the burly hobgoblin Draugrim knew must be their chief, Durnn.
            Standing before a throne in front of a large shaft, from which a dim violet light shone, his face and armor marked in the black and yellow and red of the Durbuluk goblin tribe, the chief took aim with a carved bone shortbow where the other hobgoblins bore longbows. Beside him, his advisor - the decrepit old she-goblin Grenl, a sight that brought a chill of remembered fear to Draugrim's heart. Half her face was slack, hanging in wrinkly folds, and one eye bulbous and pale blue and probably blind; he didn't know why, but her torture, her presence, had always been more terrifying than any of his other tormentors.
            They could see that beside the throne, there was a pot with a plant growing in it - a papaya sapling. Not only that, but he could understand a little of what the goblins were shrieking, his knack for languages paying off. Mostly it was encouragement to each other, and of course orders on whom to target from their leaders, but at the back, the chief was reminding them that there was nowhere left to run for them (with a sneer at the pug-faced goblin). The smell of incense was thick in the room, closed braziers glowing dully from their holes at intervals around the walls, which were hung with goblin shields and masks.
            In their eagerness to fight over who got to tear into the intruders, not a single goblin javelin or sword penetrated Draugrim or Nominis' defense.
            The beared half-elf had barely time to interpose his shield before a javelin nearly skewered him through the eye, Draugrim fumbling briefly with his sword before interposing it between Nominis and a jagged piece of iron that the goblins saw fit to call a blade. The pair kept returning the favor, throwing in parries, dodges, shoves, and every manner of trick to avoid being overwhelmed. The mass of bodies fell like a wave, Draugrim keeping his shield arm strong and battering waway the worst of the assault, jabbing his blade out where possible to force the filthy beasts back before they surged forth again, an ocean of foul odors and murderous intent.
            " I see we found the king of these nadorhuanrim!" Draugrim roared over the sudden battle, the Elvish harsh on his tongue as yet another Goblin crawled atop its brethren to try and take his life with its daggers. The half-elf sent out his boot towards the poor monster that was being used as a step ladder, making it yelp back in fear and toppling its rider with him. His leg was swiftly withdrawn, a dozen mad hacks and hews sent towards it to try and sever the limb. There were so many - but a brief glance deeper into the room made Draugrim's blood freeze.
            It was her. Unmistakably so. With half her face looking like a melted cabbage, there was no chance of him failing to remember Grenl, his constant companion during his days of imprisonment. She had been cruel, crueller than any goblin he had ever met before. Even the brutal and near-fatal training at the hands of the Tiri Kitor had been a welcome vacation compared to the calculating and sadistic hands of Grenl. Draugrim swallowed hard, lost his posture, and promptly received a cut to the chest.
            The sudden punch rocked him back onto one leg, bracing to steady himself. Thankfully, his armor had taken the brunt of the blow, turning aside the blunted goblin sword but leaving a nasty gash in the leather that revealed the strips of steel embedded beneath it. Draugrim shoved back with his shield, trading a few blows with the swarm of attackers before falling back on the defense entirely: he and Nominis were holding back the storm and it was almost all they could do at the moment.
            " Archers in the back!" Draugrim called out, slashing at another assailaint to make it back off, " And a lot of the little ones in front here!"
            A goblin leapt through the air suddenly, grabbing onto Draugrim's shield and trying to pull it down with his body weight so his companions would have a clear line of stabbing at the elf. Enraged, the wild elf swept his blade at the masses, forcing them to back off while dropping to a knee swiftly, shoving his shield into the ground once, then again, forcing the creature to let go and scamper off to the safety of his pack.
            " Stand here or fall back!?" he asked, knowing their conditions were less than optimal. If they ran, they would be shot in the back. If they stayed, the little goblins would wear them down and then the bigger ones would shoot them in the front. Not exactly ideal.
            The whole situation was sickening. The smell. Grenl. The screaming and bloodlust of the goblins. The horrors he had suffered. Still no sight of his cousins. Draugrim could feel it - could feel his blood begin to boil. The roll of rage upon his tongue, the verses of voraciously violent fury that was his mother's song and his father's heart. His shoulders began to heave, anger making his whole body shake at the injustices of a lifetime personified by the little monsters that sought to carve them all asunder.
            These creatures ... these goblins. These monsters. Grenl. Durnn. They had taken his kin from him. They had him suffer long under hot irons and the lash. Savage animals were better than they: at least the beasts of the wild simply did as nature intended. These tiny glamhothrim , they were intentionally malicious. Knowingly wicked and fiendish. His elven spirit called for them to be rid from this world, and his human rashness agreed.
            " Blood for blood," he growled under his breath, knuckles tightening upon his bulwark and his blade, " Blood for blood, whether here or there ... Blood for blood ..!"
            The umbral weaver breathes a sigh of relief when all the attacks pass him by. But still, being in the first line is not his idea of great time. He slams the door into goblin faces, hoping to delay next round of arrows and runs back with others. "Ready your ranged weapons, there will be plenty of targets to practice on."
            The door opened and the team was assaulted by goblins. Nala whooped and readied her axe, ready to wade in on the foul creatures, until retreat was called. “What! We’re running away?” Nala squeaked. “It’s just goblins!” But she was dragged back with the others, grumbling. Draugrim could hear the deeper voices of the hobgoblins shouting above the goblin din.
            Orklar roared laughter at the circumstances. It was mad chaos and horrific timing, stumbling across the final den of greenskins as such. This cramped engagement was a meatgrinder awaiting the first turn of the crank.
            “Any sign of a dragon?!” he shouted to those in the front, but he couldn’t imagine that the creature would be housed here. Likely it was in the pit below. Or behind one of the locked doors they had already passed, glancing behind him.
            He hefted his bulk and prepared to pull back, knowing his own limitations and the tapped resources they all were juggling. If they could string a few of the goblins into a choke point, the more the merrier, but they would better serve by letting the kobolds and goblins clash for another night.
            They could return fresh and frosty and with a plan. The dead gods knew these creatures weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
            Vol followed Orklar, with a final glance back at the closed door that held back the green tide.
            Brick chomped at the bit as his hands tightened on his axes. He relished a chance to dive into a cluster of goblins like a whirlwind of death. But their tactical position was quite poor. A frontal assault on the goblin den would be suicide. Especially with their sneaks in front. He grunted at Orklar's suggestion. "Aye, tactical retreat. Back'm up lads an' lasses. Back tae tha smoky hall." That said, he followed Orklar.
            The others followed suit, Meepak zipping past between their legs so fast that he was back in the smoky hall before most of them had reached the narrow corridors leading there. The kobolds in the hall turned to stare at them, surprised. Only when the party was bunched together in the hall did they realize Nominis wasn't with them - he had stayed behind to cast a spell.
            "Nominis!" Dal called in alarm, echoed by Erky, who had nearly made it into the smoky hall, but now paused.
            They all heard the broken door bang open again, but Nominis could see the handful of goblins that spilled out. They were yelling insults and challenges, while in the background the hobgoblins called from within the sickly violet light for them to spread out and work together.
            Nominis nods, satisfied that his spell slowed down the advance of the goblins. But knowing the spell, he knows it will not hold them for long. However, that little time is all they needed.
            He runs back toward the group, stopping next to Orklar. "They are coming. Why isn't anyone shooting along the long corridor?! We could have bottled them in there! And retreated behind this bend before they retaliate. My spell will not hold them, only slow them down." His words held true - they could hear the bigger goblins' deeper voices approaching, haranguing the lesser goblins to move forward.
            Orklar continued his slow withdrawal, trying to ensure everyone made it clear from the advancing green mob. Seeing Nominis harrying the goblins as he brought up the rear of their retreat, Orklar mulled his options, looking for a way to string out or confuse or delay the wily denizens, even for a few heartbeats.
            He swung the great bulk of his gear around in practiced fashion and plunged a meaty hand into a jingling sack. He brought out a clenched fistful of coins and hurled them into the zig zag stretch of hallway.
            A spray of silver and gold discs flickered and arced through the air, rattle-clanking along the stonework with an unmistakable tinkling. Orklar grunted in good humor and gave a little ground, hoping the greed of the goblins would serve the party in the long run.
            The goblins' voices rose excitedly at the rain of coin, despite the hobgoblins' admonishments to ignore their sudden wealth and keep moving. Vol, seeing Orklar's tactic, and hearing Nominis' urging to shoot, nocked and drew an arrow, ready to shoot the first goblin that came into sight over the heads of his shorter companions.
            Brick grunted, "Gobbies be stupid. They chase if'n they be thinkin they have advantage. An' wit us runnin, they think we scared." A predatory grin spread through his beard. We lure'm tae these corridors an' bottle'm up." He gestures with his axes to the twin single-file hallways. We git 'em one atta time." He eyed the hallways again, "Well, two."
            "By Gaerdal's blue beard, what's going on?" Erky yelled back. "If we're making a stand, I'll not be at the back!" He shoved his way back past the others, taking up a position by Brick, a goblin javelin in one hand and a goblin blade in the other.
            Realizing that the fight was on, Dalian doubled back down the second corridor to come up behind the fighters, his staff casting light down the passage for those with no darkvision. Meepak scurried after him cautiously, peeking around the corner with both trembling hands on his stolen goblin sword.
            Draugrim skittered to a halt at realizing that one of their own had stayed behind. Damnable fool - why were these heroes intent on getting themselves killed after placing the half-elf in their debt!? Fury continued to build within him: Grenl's visage alone had already set him down the warpath, but now it was barely contained, the Vale native stalwartly marching back down the hall towards Nominis.
            He smashed the pommel of his blade against his shield, the bulwark dented and chipped from withstanding the blades of the goblins. Above the din, his voice carried, chanting words of choler and passion.

" The thunder rolled and paused for no breath,
Ohnka hefting shield and steel club high,
Come! Come, Soft Winds of Death!
The storm itself became her battle cry,
Not felled by axe nor broken by storm,
Her foes felt naught but her hammer perform!"

" And though Hel-Hyraf Crashed upon Her Shield,
The Orc Maiden broke both Arrow and Blade,
Ohnka of Requiem dare not Yield -
To Arms! To War! To Blood, she bade!
Denetar Bold to her side he sped
Together they slew forth a River of Red!"

            With the blood rage ebbing from his mind, the Dwarf refocused. The battle was raging behind them, and only a few hobgoblins ahead. He grinned toothily, "Nae lad. Tha lass an' I push on, an' use their trick against 'em. Come up their arse. Ye keep 'em busy as so dey ain't see us comin, aye?" He winked to Nala before stepping out and whirling his axes deftly at the hobgoblin before him. The hobgoblin had been expecting him, and managed to stay just beyond the reach of Brick's axes as it slowly gave ground.
            Draugrim grit his teeth in response, but not necessarily in indignation - he had a healthy amount of respect for the dwarf's bravery, and the gnome's too if she followed him into the fray. The Half-Elf did not fret too much over their safety - they seemed to know how to take care of themselves.
            The Kobolds, however ...
            Shield raised, Draugrim slid up towards Orklar, covering the Half-Orc in case a wayward arrow launched itself over Brick and Nala.
            " How do our little scaly friends fare?" he asked Orklar over the din of battle, preparing to charge into the melee again.
            Bodies pressed up against Orklar, and he bared teeth but didn’t snarl at those trying to ‘help’ him hold the door closed. He waved his mace back at Dalian, motioning for him to support from the other corridor.
            “Hold now, hold,” he said to Nominis, “There’s plenty of killing to come yet.” Then he glanced at Draugrim with a bit of surprise that he was here.
            “They’re not our friends,” he said with a snort about the kobolds. “Don’t for a moment think they are.”
            The last hobgoblin remaining faced off with Brick, launching a series of attacks that was merely meant to give it room before it retreated after the others, disappearing into the chamber of the strange, violet light.
            Nala snarled as it escaped, but did not pursue.
            Vol joined Dalian a moment later, turning to raise his bow at the door he'd come through and nock an arrow. "I counted three hobgoblins and four goblins," he informed the others, coughing from the smoke. He added dryly, "Before the light was cut off. I see well at dusk, but at full night even elves need light." He nodded to Dalian, who held his glowing staff aloft.
            "I'm here, I'm here," Erky puffed as he ran into the corridor, spinning and ready to defend in the narrow space. "I don't mind facing goblins, but Gaerdal knows I'd rather not face them all at once! I think your little kobold allies are running for the hills." There was contempt for their cowardice in his tone, and he brandished his own goblin sword, ready for trouble.
            “No, no dragon yet,” Orklar said. “Just the goblin king and his witch with the rest of them.” He leaned his weight agains the door and kept his mace at the ready. “We can’t fight them on two fronts. They have numbers and know the terrain better.”
            “Brick! How does it look that way?” Orklar called to the dwarf on the front lines. “We just can’t have them circle on us,” he added to those close at hand.
            Nominis, finished reloading his crossbow, backed away from the door, and from down the hall, Dal gave him a wave to indicate that he was ready to cover the other door. Meepak, chest heaving anxiously, scuttled into a corner, reptilian eyes wild as he tried to guess where the enemy might appear.
            Brick growled at the retreating hobgoblins, mostly at his own failure to bloody any of them. He debated chasing them down, but the bloodlust had left his mind clear once more. They were baiting him and Nala. Split the party. He wasn't having it.
            "Oi, orc", he said to Orklar as he approached the group, "What be tha plan now? Dem hobbos ran back an' I think dey be wantin us ta foller."
            “We need eyes on what’s happening,” Orklar growled. “And we’re already short a couple here. Three or four of you scout down the big hall. Find the witch. If you can get to her, then get to her . We need to be nipping them at both sides instead of them nipping at ours!”
            “Go on, I can manage here,” the big half-orc said, his bulk against the door. “Just call us a sign when you do go in!”
            “I’ll go get her!” Nala told Orklar. “I’ll chop her head off and make a puppet with it!” Her axe dripping with goblin gore, she rushed off down the hall.
            The ferocious gnome burst through the doorway at the end of the hall like a miniature whirlwind - and there was a goblin right there! It spun in a fright as she raised her axe and skidded to a stop -
            Naturally, the universe decided that this was a good time to remind her of the magic Nominis had cast earlier. Her feet slid out from under her, and she slid right past the goblin, just barely catching herself from slipping right into the shaft that the weird violet light glowed from. It limned the goblin's face in eerie color as it sighed in relief, and turned to flee as she crawled back over the lip.
            Nala heard a cracking sound. It seemed to be coming from the potted plant by the goblin throne, behind an iron chest and a paint-smeared pile of armor.

            " Wait, Nala - !" Draugrim cried out, but it was too late to stop the gnome warrior. She was already bounding off, and the Half-Elf was quick on her heels.
            " Gods' Blood, Grendl isn't just some hedge witch!" he cursed under his breath, knowing that if the vicious goblin had a chance to get one of her curses off, they would all surely be in grave danger. Unwilling to let Nala face that threat alone, The Son of Wildmane resolved to do more good fighting alongside her than chastising from a distance.
            " I'll send your sign, Orklar!" he called back over his shoulder, the other Half-Blood appearing to know his way around a battlefield - they had a much better chance of sweeping the goblinoids aside if they struck from two prongs rather than bash their heads against single wall.
            Shield raised, Draugrim scowled at heading back into the hallway filled with arrows and blood. He despised the shield most of all - it reminded him of failure after failure against his Tiri Kitor cousins, so obsessed he had been with hiding from their blows during sparring. Things had gone so much better once his crescent-bladed glaive had sat in his hands ...
            At least the shield would keep him alive during the charge, Draugrim thought.
            There was no rain of projectile retribution against him as he advanced down the hallway. Only the partially-glimpsed sight of the gnome climbing up out of the violet shaft of light, suffering no apparent attack either. At least, until -
            Nala saw the retreating goblin pause; seeing her precarious situation, it just couldn't resist. With a grin, it lobbed a javelin at her. The grin died a bit when, one-handed, she knocked the javelin away with her axe before rolling over the lip and onto the edge of the drop, prone, but safe.
            Erky glanced back at Vol and Dal. "Steady on, friends. I've survived until now, I don't think Gaerdal spared me just to let me die now!" He knocked his rusty sword against his paint-smeared shield, grinning fiercely.
            Brick grumbled quietly, but didn't say anything as he followed the little gnome back into the hall. It was mildly frustrating to go back and forth, but he knew it was partially self-induced. He also understood the need to keep the party unified on a tactical level - having him run off on his own wouldn't do anyone any favors, but maybe the three of them could do something useful.
            "Wait up, wee lass," he said as he rounded the corner. A Dwarf's legs could only move him so fast.
            Tharivol sighed and nodded at Orklar, then turned to follow Nala, Draugrim, and Brick. His legs were longer than the dwarf's but he made sure to stay behind Brick. They passed Draugrim, who was following Nala more cautiously.
            "What...? Hey now!" Erky protested as the party drained down the far hallway. "I didn't mean that Gaerdal was sure to save me! Strength in numbers, friends! I hate to say it, but the goblins are using it now!" His voice cracked a bit, still dry and scratchy from his long imprisonment.
            Meepak scuttled a bit farther down the hallway, and seeing the coins spilled on the ground, fell victim to his greed just as the goblins had. He began collecting them while the others awaited whatever the goblins were planning.
            Nala grunted as she nearly took a slip and slide into the pit. She fended off the goblin as she rolled out of the pit. “Watch that first step, guys!” Nala yelled back as she picked herself up. She heard something near the throne. “There might be something in here,” she called.
            Nala looked at the only goblin in the room and grinned wickedly at it. She gestured with a finger for him to come to her.
            The goblin swallowed and began to back away, clearly not tempted by Nala's invitation. In fact, it looked like it was seriously considering whether it should be demonstrating the better part of valor.
            There was a crackling, creaking sound, and the sapling in the pot by the throne slowly twisted itself out of its pot, shaking off loose dirt.
            Peering at the grease and commotion ahead, Draugrim wondered if perhaps charging straight in was not the best plan. Seeing the door nearby, he used pantomime to instruct his two new comrades that he meant to see if perhaps, just perhaps, this was a way to get around the vicious little gremlins and flank them from multiple sides.
            Saddling up to the door, the Wild Elf tucked his sword under his shield arm and tried to push it open to take a look inside, as quietly as he could manage below the din of battle.
            The door opened a crack - but was almost immediately stopped by something blocking it. From what he could see through the narrow opening, the goblins had piled all manner of junk in the way of the door, anticipating the exact scenario he had been hoping for.
            However, the goblin town was surprisingly quiet, only a few scuttling forms flitting about in the purplish glow - none of them warriors, Draugrim judged. He didn't think anyone had noticed his attempt.
            Orklar’s side of the doorway fell quiet for a span of heartbeats as he remained motionless with his bulk pressed against the door. Then he smirked, imagining the wily goblins creeping up on his position, maybe even pressing an ear to the wood to try and discern what was happening on the other side. They were as equally blind.
            He gave it another heartbeat or two. Then with a swift flick of his thick forearm, he wrapped his mace head against the door loudly once. Then he began tapping it firmly against the surface, tap, tap tap, moving it to another spot and repeating, tap, tap, tap. Twice more in different spots he rapped the mace against the door in quick succession.
            Then he went silent again, still smiling. Let them make of that what they will, and he cocked his arm to swing his mace at any green appendage that might try to burst through.
            He could hear the goblin voices outside the door, many and close, but too muffled to make out the words - not that Orklar would have understood them. But with his many years of experience, he didn't really need to. If the old half-orc judged right, they were getting ready to make a push. That, and it sounded like there were a lot of goblins panicking - too many to all be warriors in a tribe this size.
            Then it began.
            Dal yelled, hurling his staff down the corridor he stood behind, then stepping over to the corner wall and ducking behind it. He reached out in time to catch his quarterstaff as it whipped back into his hand, but a pained cry from Erky suggested things weren't going as well as they might.
            Then the door was wrenched out of Orklar's grip by a snarling hobgoblin. The overgrown goblin's mood was not improved by the application of Orklar's heavy mace to its face. It recoiled, and Nominis' crossbow bolt missed it by inches.
            Then the angry monster slashed Orklar's extended arm with its sword, jabbering insults Nominis could piece together in its own tongue. The hobgoblin beside it tried to stab him as well, but was shoved aside by the angry one Orklar had clobbered when it tried to push its fellow aside. From behind the two, the scar-headed hobgoblin in fine scale mail jabbed at Orklar with a crescent-bladed glaive, only for Orklar to knock the attack aside, despite his wound.
            "Rhut ghuul!" the chieftain snarled at its underlings, restoring order after a few moments. Behind the warriors, a throng of goblins milled about - not warriors, but a horde carrying what goods they could abscond with, jeering Orklar and cheering their chieftain on.

            In the chieftain's hall, the fleeing goblin paused in the doorway when it heard the sapling move, and after a moment's deliberation, launched another javelin at Nala. It was so nervous, though, that its javelin only went clanking down into the pit. Nala could hear it fall quite a way.
            "Ghreer!" the goblin cursed frantically.
            Brick growled at the circular room before him. He had a chance to catch either the plant thing, or the goblin and their original tactic, but not both. They were trying to split attention, and he didn't like it. Very little of this current predicament did he like. The Dwarf quickly weighed his options and sighed deeply. He shook his head, even as he started moving. "Ain't no good options," he said as he carefully stepped into the greasy area, then turned to use the grease to slide towards the goblin, using the wall to steady himself.
            Unfortunately, his relentless pursuit of the goblin came at the cost of his stability. When he tried to slide on the greasy stone, his legs slipped farther than he had intended, and he wound up flat on his back. Not one to be caught lying down, he carefully regained his feet while the goblin unwisely yelled something nasty-sounding (most Ghukliak sounded nasty) and laughed at him, albeit nervously.
            Vol followed Brick, moving more cautiously through the grease. "Watch out, Brick!" He drew an arrow, quickly sighting at the retreating goblin.
            However, the sudden movement proved a bit too sharp even for the agile elf, and he spun slightly, slipping as he tried to regain his position. Like Brick, he was up again in a trice - and the goblin was laughing harder than ever, forgetting its fear momentarily. At least the stupid thing was too busy jeering to take advantage of their minor slips.
            “Oi!” Nala yelled back to the others. “We got another of those tree things in here!” She swung her axe like a lumberjack would, grinning, ducking the javelin thrown by the goblin. Brick moved to engage the goblin, so Nala could turn her entire attention on the tree monster.
            Nala charged up to the creature, swinging her axe mightily.
            Her powerful blow struck the sapling-monster nearly in half, and it fell out of its pot, lying still on the floor in the weird violet light pouring from the pit. Nala stood over it victorious, her face twisted in furious abandon.
            Brick grumbled at the grease, foiled in his attempt to look cool. He brushed his armor briefly before carefully advancing to clear floor. He made a face at the empty doorway - the goblin had gotten away. Still, he was locked onto a course of action at this point. He had to go through with it.
            The tall elf made his way around the other side of the pit from Brick, looking down at the sickly glow and trying to determine its source.
            He wasn't sure why, but the fungus growing on the sides of the pit, along with the thick, pale vines that descended down into the depths, were giving off a strong violet glow. He judged that the bottom of the pit lay around eighty feet below, opening into a larger area.
            Moving past Brick, he hurried toward the sound of battle, through the empty goblin town. All around, the violet fungus lit the room, gathered in sconces on the walls. The multi-tiered, ramshackle wooden town was silent; what few elderly, sick or wounded goblins remained were not interested in being found. Only a few dropped goblin "treasures" remained: old pots, colored beads, knife handles, half-chewed mystery meat.
            “Hee hee!” Nala giggled as she chopped the tree monster into kindling, dancing in the leaves. “Oi! Mage! We got some glowy magicky stuff in here for you to look at!” she yelled for Dalian. Then Nala went racing around the center pit after the fleeing goblin.

            "You'll never take me alive again! Gaerdal's blessing upon me!" Erky howled from out of sight, and the cling and clank of metal on metal ensued... and then stopped.
            "Erky is down!" Dal exclaimed, peeking around the corner.
            Meepak, now armed with a set of goblin javelins (and Orklar's money), hurried after Draugrim. "Grrr*click*yikyikyik?" he asked the half-elf warily, glancing back towards the battle.
            " I hear it, I hear it ..!" Draugrim grunted back at the small, dragon-like creature, not understanding its strange language. His new comrades were in danger and, from the sounds of it, things were not going well. If they trundled back down the way they had come, they would all merely be caught in the tight hallway and hacked down. Orklar and the others needed help, something to take the pressure off.
            And Draugrim was going to give it to them. He may have been an Elf, but he was not one of his frail Sun or Moon cousins. He was Tiri Kitor, and his was a strength of the prowling panther and the striking hawk. Taking a gambit, Draugrim put his back against the wall opposite the door and took a deep breath.
            With a furious roar in the guttural, Elvish tongue his father spoke, the son of Hucrele and Wildmane bounded forward and put his shield and shoulder fully into the door, trying to bash it open against the junk the goblins had left behind: at least wide enough to start moving through. If nothing else, he hoped it would cause an uproar in the goblin town beyond and draw some of its defenders back to fight the furious Half-Elf.
            The door, and the piled junk behind it, groaned and creaked as he put all his strength, all his will, into forcing it to open at his command. Slowly, slowly, the barrier moved, Draugrim's torture- and privation-weakened arms remembering their old strength in the memory of his people - both his peoples. At last, muscles strained to their limit and sweat beading in the cool air of the underground citadel, the half-elf stood back.
            The way was open - just wide enough for all the party to fit through.

            With a defiant yell, Dalian darted forward to stand over Erky's prone body, his hands weaving in arcane patterns that trailed a golden light - and colored sand. His words came in the rumbling, hissing, basso vibration of Draconic, intoning the command to See into another, deeper reality. Even the hobgoblin's now-wary attack he wove into his dance of the Art, stepping aside from the jab and tossing forth his colored sand, which hung in the air - and began to spread.
            Several of the goblins dropped where they stood, eyes rolled back in their heads. In particular, the goblin in the oversized armored coat seemed astonished as she fell. The remaining two goblins, one big and one small, had withstood his arcane command. The hobgoblin grinned evilly as he saw the unarmored mage standing alone, and slung its longbow, slowly drawing its longsword with a deliberate, threatening scrape of metal on metal as it advanced. The goblin behind it lobbed a javelin at Dal, but the canny mage used the hobgoblin as a shield.
            "Uh... guys?" Dal said, trying to keep the alarm from his voice as the leering hobgoblin approached, but not entirely succeeding. "A little help?"
            Orklar stared into the visage of Death as it manifested in a sea of snarling green faces and called for him with a chorus of gibbering mouths. Death had come for him before, had wrapped its cold claw around his heart and squeezed for what had felt like several lifetimes. It had changed him, cursed him some would even say, but he knew differently. He could call on that deep well of oblivion when he needed to. He could reach into it and take back some of what had been stolen.
            Death was trying to come for him again, but now it just made him angry . Orklar looked into the snarling maw, reached into the black pit within, and snarled right back. The chill of the grave and the swirling mists which blasted from him coalesced into a ferocious storm, blotting out everything in the immediate vicinity and slicing into any living thing that it touched.
            The big half-orc brought up shield and mace and hunkered up, warding off the worst of the storm as it tried to consume everything in its path.
            Frost coated the walls around Orklar, as well as the enemies before him. It lay so thick upon them that they choked, the two in front growling and spitting from behind the cover of their shields, which saved them from the brunt of the freezing winds, the like of which they had likely never known. Those behind weren't so lucky; the goblin nearly dropped its shield as it tried to claw the snow from its nose and mouth, and the goblin chief, his hands full of the crescent-bladed glaive, roared and horked up gobbets of ice.
            Nominis runs forward, for the moment not reloading his crossbow. He pulls right next to Orklar and opens his mouth.
            Out came pidgin Ghukliak, the clever bard having picked up more and more of the meaning behind the words just in his time in the Citadel. Whatever he was saying, it seemed to give the ice-rimed hobgoblin in the lead pause. Still, it warily slashed at Orklar, but whether it was the hobgoblin's hesitancy, the half-orc's cencentration on saving his hide, or the freezing, howling blizzard that surrounded him, its sword only cracked hard against Orklar's sheild, shaking loose unnatural ice that skittered across the floor in crumbs and chunks.
            The goblin, colder than it had ever been in its life and badly wounded to boot, decided to run for it - but that only enraged its chief further. Before it had fled more than a few steps, the glaive in the scarred hobgoblin's hands cut it down.
            <"NO MERCY,"> the chief roared in Ghukliak, and clearly meant it not just for their foes, but for any cowards who fled.
            This seemed to encourage the other hobgoblin, who drove its sword into the whirl of snow with such power that it knocked Orklar's shield aside, sticking him badly. <"No mercy!"> the warrior echoed its chief, holding up its frozen red blade triumphantly.
            The scarred chief tried to take advantage of Orklar's misfortune, but the half-orc was far too canny not to expect exactly that. He turned away the crescent glaive on his shield, the blade skirling against the steel and scraping a line of thick paint from the Durbuluk insignia.
            <"Grenl! Get over here! Grenl!"> Chief Durnn snarled, only then realizing that the goblin had fallen to Dal's magic. <"You! Over there, kill their shaman! We'll deal with this dung-eater!">
            Meepak, long ears twitching at every cry and clang, ventured past Draugrim into the goblin town. In the pale violet fungus-light, it seemed abandoned of all but those too injured or sick to move - they had been left behind.
            Meepak narrowed his eyes, and darted swift as any goblin from one to another in the tiered timbers and junk they had built their town from, slicing throats open - so busy he didn't even spot the goblin warrior escaping from the hall of the Durbuluk chief.
            Roaring with triumph at feeling his strength return in full vigor, Draugrim followed Meepak into the Goblin Town to flank around the sounds of battle to th East. The situation sounded dire, and the Half Elf was not keen on losing his new friends and being put in chains once more.
            Upon seeing Meepak, the kobold, fall upon the noncombatants, the Tiri Kitor grew angry. On his way past, he gave the Kobold a firm, sharp slap to the back of his crown: enough to sting but not fully attack the tiny draconian.
            " Leave them!" he harshly criticized, " There are warriors to bring your steel upon! Waste not your time on those who cannot fight! "
            Meepak squawked and rubbed his head, shooting a glare at the passing half-elf. He clearly didn't understand the warrior's words, hurriedly holding up a bit of junk he had taken from the dead goblin civilian to appease Draugrim.
            Draugrim rushed to the door that led back into the hallway, when he saw it.
            Shining and Lunar, as it was from the day he crafted it himself.
            In the hands of a Hob. In the hands of his torturers.
            "THAT IS MINE."
            It was not a cry of entitlement or jealousy - it was a challenge that broke through Draugrim's throat. He could feel himself overwhelmed with righteous anger, knowing his Glaive was once more in reach and that it was being used for the vilest of purposes.
            Once more the words came to him, the rhythmic chanting of promised fury.

"Thrice he was Wronged,
and Thrice justly Avenged,
A Remedy Prolonged,
Before brought to Swift End!"

" He came fell-handed and bright,
No creature before him dare stand,
With laughter mad the air did alight,
Steel asking naught but a bloody demand!"

            Nala felt her rage ebb and fatigue set in. Her axe drooped, and she wheezed a bit as she continued racing after the goblin, finally catching up to him in the middle of the large goblin town.
            “Finally!” Nale said with a glare, forcing her weary muscles to swing her axe at the goblin’s head.
            What she had thought was a goblin turned out to be Meepak, who squealed in terror as she chopped at him with her axe. "Wait!" Dal yelled. Smashing the bloodied sword raised in defense from the blue kobold's grip, she realized her error as he ran off to hide in the multitiered goblin shantytown.
            Tossing aside Draugrim's glaive like so much rubbish, Chief Durnn snarled through his warpaint, drawing his sword as he stepped up to meet the two invaders. "Rhuktak ghü," he growled, lashing out - and catching Draugrim's cheek, laying it open all the way up to his scalp.
            "You should hear how family scream. Like children when tear arms, legs off," the scar-faced hobgoblin sneered in broken Shaartan. "Like baby warthog when belly cut. Like-"
            Draugrim howled in bloodthirsty fury at Chief Durnn's implications, trying desperately to use his shield to force an opening with his blade, intent on cutting down every goblinoid in front of him while praying that the cruel creature was lying.
            " MONSTERS! SAVAGES! NADORHUANRIM! I'LL CARVE OUT YOUR SKULL AND TOAST TO YOUR DEATH WITH IT!"
            His frenzy drove him further, blade thrusting and cutting into the doorway to draw blood even as he continued his angry saga.

" Rage, Only Rage! No Mercy in Sight!
Vengeance Cries and must be Answered;
Rage, Only Rage! Let your Blood Alight;
Aloft on High Flies the Furious Standard!"

            Nala leaned on her axe, panting. “Sorry, Meepak!” she yelled at the running kobold.
            The fight at the door was crowded. Even with her small size she wasn’t going to be getting in there. Her arms felt leaden, barely able to lift her axe. So instead she pulled a javelin and threw it at the goblin in the doorway.
            Between her weariness and the shifting combatants in melee, her javelin was turned aside. In the doorway, the scar-faced goblin chief, and his tribesman at his shoulder, continued to mock Draugrim, and added Brick for good measure. "You son of kobold. Fight like kobold. Soft, make good food. Dwarf soup, elf mash. Like family. I spit out kobold scale from them." The taunts and goads could hardly provoke more rage than they already felt - and then it became clear that Durnn had miscalculated, badly.
            Realizing his senseless bashing was accomplishing nothing aside from bloodying his face, Draugrim Hucrele let the shield in his hand clatter to the ground: he hated the bulwarks, hated the idea of hiding. He had hid from the fellow children of the Tiri Kitor, and he had only earned their respect once he had quit staying tucked behind a shield and instead lashed out with the power of his mixed blood.
            " Tethadriel Bold, where lay your glaive?"
            The line was followed by Draugrim putting the power of both his arms into his longsword, seeking to skewer Durnn for all the pain and rage he had caused.
            " Why my dear Hakon, in some sorry knave!"
            The strike was hard, swift, but not stupid - Draugrim knew that holding the door any further was just preventing more of their allies from joining the fight.
            " And whence they went after the blow you gave?"
            With that in mind, the Half-Elf made a swift retreat backwards, throwing up another slash to force away any reprisal from his defensive step.
            " Why my dear Hakon, to an early grave!"
            Instead of throwing off Draugrim's attack as it had before, his taunts whipped the half-elf into such a frenzy that he smashed through Durnn's defenses with sheer strength, his goblin sword growing notched by the battering he delivered to the chief.
            Half-bludgeoned, half-cut to mincemeat, Durnn spat blood and gasped, giving ground. "Burj hruchtak, grokt!" he choked. He kept his eyes on the madman, but no longer had the spirit to jeer at him.
            The hobgoblin beside him answered, its face calculating as its yellow eyes flicked between its half-dead chief and the invaders. "Trork?"
            "Hruchtak, ghal duhrmuk," Durnn repeated emphatically, panting. He knocked away Dalian's thrown quarterstaff again, but hunched over his wounds with a grunt as it returned to the mage's grasp.
            <"To the pit!"> the other hobgoblin bellowed in Ghukliak, so loud even Nominis and Orklar could hear it clearly (though to everyone but Nominis, it was just more goblin gibberish).
            The small goblin with no more javelins behind them went haring up the passage Orklar had previously occupied, and the badly wounded one looked like it was planning to follow. The hobgoblin facing off against Nominis scowled at Orklar and warily retreated from its melee with the bard and the half-orc, leaving its comrades and Erky at their feet. It trotted up the other passage moments later, following the escaping little goblin, its shield-arm drooping under the weight from its shadow-lion wounds.
            Orklar eyed the fleeing hobgoblin with a sneer, then his head swung back to the nearby hall and the fallen Erky. He huffed a hefty breath of air and stepped to the edge of the hallway, shouldering Nominis out of the way with persistent force.
            “Let me see to him,” he said. “Give chase if you like. I’ll be right along.”
            Nominis moves into the smoky hall "Thank you, One-Eye. Once again we play against death and live on."
            Orklar then fished in his belongings and set to making sure Erky didn’t slip into the final darkness. He wasn’t sure the small man would approve of some of the salves and ointments the half-orc was using, but then again, he wasn’t in much position to complain. Erky's wounds were quickly bandaged under Orklar's swift and efficient hands.
            Looking over the situation Nominis comes quickly decides to even the matters a little. Seeing how the goblinoids block the door he decides to try for a trick.
            In their own language he calls to the hobgoblin "Mighty warrior, my friend, the dwarf is weak, surface dwellers are almost dead. You could be the winner and the new chief. Look at how weak he is. He retreats and hides behind you. He is defeated by an elf. HALF-elf. Step back, strike him down and be the new chief."
            <"A trick! Ignore the long-pig,"> Durnn choked in Ghukliak, drooling blood.
            The hobgoblin glanced back at Nominis, then at its chief... but it was hard to convince it, even magically, that the foes that it fought had its best interests in mind. Nominis' honeyed words failed to spur the dormant treachery in its bones, at least enough for it to turn on its chief while they were so outnumbered.
            But it didn't try to save him, either.
            With a few final parrys of Brick's deadly dwarven axes, it withdrew from the melee, trotting after the other goblins, followed by the badly limping goblin holding a javelin.
            Brick wasn't dissuaded by his pack of progress. He was patient, even if the Skald's song was urging him otherwise. He realized he was striking too recklessly and pulled back a moment to take more calculated attacks. He grinned at Durnn as the Chief stepped up to the fore. His axes whirled in their deadly dance. "Yer done fer, fella," he growled to him.
            The mortally wounded chieftain fought valiantly, Brick had to give him that. But with every blow, Brick's patience frayed as his rage grew - and the power behind his axes increased. Before long, the dwarf was a vortex of death, his sharp dwarven axes cutting through the weakened hobgoblin's defenses like they were mere reeds. Even after his foe fell, Brick's fury burned bright; he hacked the body 'til it no longer moved under his furious assault.
            The elf didn't know what the hobgoblin had said but he could recognize the danger in running after them headlong. "Don't get separated!" Maybe a foolish thing to say, given how they'd all gone haring off in different directions before this, but that had only turned out alright through sheer luck. He sent another pair of arrows at the one hobgoblin he could still see, frost riming one of his arrows.
            By this time, the enemies before him had fallen... but he spotted movement to one side.
            It was the fleeing goblins, framed for a moment in the door to the goblin town that Draugrim had forced open.
            Taking aim at the bigger of the two he could see over the heads of Nala and the smaller goblin, he let fly two arrows. The first slammed into the hobgoblin in a burst of ice, and it howled in surprise and pain. The second arrow shattered against the wall behind it, making it flinch away.
            Nala felt Draugrim’s song flow throw her. She took a breath, lifting her axe as an opening at the door appeared. “Leave some pieces for me!” she said.
            Though he did not speak their barbaric tongue, Draugrim had been a part of enough Tiri Kitor hunts gone wrong to know when a retreat was being sounded. The tide had turned, and he was not about to let vengeance escape so easily. Tears streaming down his cheeks out of rending fury and overwhelming grief, Draugrim ran to confront the goblins Vol had spotted escaping, anger empowering his strikes.
            " For Family Fallen, For Blood Run Cold," he chanted, knowing that his parent's adventuring troupe had also suffered such losses.
            " Vengeance upon those whose souls they sold,
            For the mercy of Gods to see them again,"
            With both hands on the blade, Draugrim vowed that the goblins would not escape the wrath of the Hucrele Family. He had vowed to all the stars above that his cousins would never have to worry so long as he drew breath.
            Damnation and Hellfire upon Durnn. No torturous afterlife was good enough for him.
            His blade sang as he improvised on the stanza, incorporating his own tale into the bold legends of Requiem Aestas.
            " For Sharwyn fair, and dear Talgen!"
            The surprised goblin in Draugrim's way lifted its short blade to parry the half-elf's attack, but it was far too weak to hold off his furious assault. He drove his sword into it, and it wailed as he drew the blade free, dark with its blood.
            Dalian, shoved aside in Draugrim's rush to the door, whirled to face whatever foe might be coming. Seeing Draugrim in the doorway dealing with them, he hurried the other way, raising his voice in the echoing stone halls. "Nominis! Orklar! Are you alive? We must put down the goblins my magic knocked out, before they wake!" Spotting Meepak, he growled and snorted in the Draconic tongue as he went.
            Seeing Nominis standing in the haze of smoke, Dalian let out a relieved sigh that became a cough in the miasma. He knelt to check the pulse of the hobgoblin at his feet.

            Nominis, seeing that his spell failed, calmly sheathed his rapier and loads his crossbow even as the leader falls.
            Orklar tilted his head as he heard Dalian’s shouts. The half-orc huffed as he finished his ministrations on Erky. He was going as fast as he was able.
            “We’re here! Doing what we can!” Orklar called out gruffly in the wizard’s direction.
            He lumbered into the smoky hall, his one eye squinting at the fallen. Then he located his target and walked over to her. Placing a giant booted foot on Grenl’s back, he began fishing around along the outskirts of his pack.
            “Leave this one for me,” he said firmly, his tone grim and foreboding. “I think we need to have a conversation or two yet.” He finally fished out a set of manacles and reached to affix them to the goblin witch.
            Meanwhile, Meepak strode into the smoky hall, waving his goblin sword triumphantly. Seeing no kobolds conscious enough to witness his victory, he knelt by one of those cut down by the goblins, and chirped something.
            The kobold's eyes blinked open, and it sat up, looking around in confusion.
            "Meepak! You could do that all along?!" Dal exclaimed, scowling at the blue kobold. Meepak glanced at him and hissed, not understanding the words, but reading his body language perfectly.
            A few clicks and chitters later, Dalian turned to the others with a sigh. "He says his god only heals great kobold warriors," he said in disgust, throwing up his hands.
            Brick growled at the pulped chieftain, the hobgoblin's ichor dripping from his soaked weapons. His furied eyes cast about for more foes to attack, but he could not see any... then the song ended and his mind began to clear. He could see their enemy was in a full rout now. Chasing them down would only fatigue them further, and they'd likely as not be lured into an ambush. Better take a more measured approach to further exploration. "Oi," he said generally as he stepped over the dead chief, "Dunnae chase after 'em. There be plenty o' time ta root 'em all out." Then he set about a task of systematically slitting the throats of those goblins and hobgoblins who dropped.
            "That's true enough. Or the kobolds will finish them off, with most of their warriors dead and without the hobgoblins backing them." The white-haired elf didn't sound unhappy at the idea. "We should heal up and think about our next moves. We don't want anyone getting killed when we're so close to a victory here."
            Nala huffed after the goblins that were running away. “Gods-damned goblins. Stand...and fight…” She caught up to the slow goblin dragging its entrails after it, and cut it down with her mighty axe. And then the song stopped and Nala pulled up, hands on her knees, huffing and puffing and sagging against the wall.
            The spilled, dark ichor of goblinoids sating his need for vengeance against those who had harmed his family, Draugrim continued his war path forwards against the Hobgoblin in front of him.
            " Not so bold now that your chief lays in a puddle of his own blood, are you?" he taunted the malevolent creature, his boots crushing the slain goblin beneath his feet as he advanced into the room and out of the doorway to give others the opportunity to come join the fight. His blade and armor stood ready to absorb any blow received in recompense, but Draugrim welcomed it: he wanted violence, he craved furious battle.
            Despite that need, however, he finally let the skaldic poems of his family's legacy cease spilling from his tongue: he would need his mother's powers later on, and did not desire to use them all just to cut down the few rabble that remained. The steel in his hand sang forth, seeking to end the battle for these halls of the Citadel.
            The goblins fled before him, as they should. Satisfied, he let them escape, returning to the smoke-filled hall... and Chief Durnn's mangled body.
            Moments later, the goblins that Dal's spell had dropped woke in fits and starts, confused and stunned, querulously trying to stand. Brick and Nala put an end to that - goblin heads rolled on the stone floor.
            Meepak helped his tribemate haul the other wounded kobolds away while Orklar fastened manacles on Grenl, the only goblin which had been spared. Her confusion quickly passed, and she huddled in the midst of the carnage, scowling with one milky eye and half her face a drooping mess. She was the one used to being feared, and it clearly didn't sit well with her to be on the wrong end of that stick. Wheezing in the hazy air, her eyes flicked over each of them, as if to memorize them for future punishment.