Chapter 4, Part II: The Lord Tallone I’ve sat in bars a lot- I don’t necessarily drink much, always been a bit of a lightweight, but I hear stories. Still, an ancient skeleton rising from a tomb and still talking was new to me, and it took me a moment to react. The lid of the tomb slid back revealing a skeleton the size of a tall human, clad in ancient plate armour with a phoenix symbol and wielding a flaming sword. its eyes glowed with an intense golden glow underneath its hat, an ancient ruler’s crown made of stiff but surprisingly intact felt. Lundgredolph was clutching his stomach, a great sword wound to his side, but still upright, attempting to apply a scrap of cloth as a rudimentary bandage The kitten was quicker off the mark than I was “Oh great and powerful Tallone, your great works go before you. We serve your progeny, who only wishes to continue your noble blood forward” Clever, cat. I quickly joined in the supplication, moving closer to the coffin “Oh great lord, we wish to make your great name as honoured as it should be.” I poured as much subservience as I could muster into that. Whether detecting my insincerity or just not all there, Tallone ignored me, focusing only on Drewan Drewan, to his credit, had been paying attention to the friezes in the tomb, and began recounting Tallone’s deeds back to him. The undead general listened to him, before shaking his head “You would have been a great general in my army, catfolk,” he intoned, his voice echoing through the chamber and almost to our very core. “But this Northern savage has defiled my tomb, and for that be must pay!” THe skeleton brought his sword up into a classic knights salute, then into a low guard. I drew my sword and prepared to strike, but Drewan was continuing to try and reason with him “ I mean you no harm, but if you attempt to hurt my colleagues I will be forced to act” “You are a learned cat, but a naive one. you have all trespassed here, and you will die for the sacrilege” Karvurk yelled from across the room “Stop bloody talking to it and kill it” Good plan. I slid my sword into its gut. *** I’d trained to fight many years ago, moving up through street brawls to bar brawls to some classical training, so I had a pretty good grasp of where to hit an opponent for maximum pain. An older thief I’d know, who’d taught me many tricks, had pointed out all of the ways to slip a blade into a man to kill him quickly and quietly “Here elf,” he’d said, pointing with his knife on a dummy, “This is the heart, quick but messy. The Stomach, there on anything but a Dwarf, will kill him painfully, but not always quickly.” THe blade flashed to the dummy’s neck “The Throat, fast but tough to penetrate. Silent- they’ll never cry out” He’d moved his deft hands to a point on the dummy’s back. “The kidneys. Good in a pie, good to die. Efficient” He’d cackled and stroked the side of the blade “Young elf, you hit a man there and he’ll remember it” *** Unfortunately, whatever this thing was, its kidneys had long since rotted away. My blade slid into the skeleton’s back, and encountered nothing. No resistance, no reaction Damn I rolled back from the Skeleton as its blade flashed towards me, feeling the motion of the blade whistle past the top of my ears. Lundgredolph, still bleeding, brought his axe around in a wide arc, chipping the creature’s armour but not slowing it in the slightest. I saw Izumi point…something? towards the Northerner, and a jet of white light shot towards him. Before my eyes, I saw the wound stitch and repair until the flesh was raw but unbroken “That’s a neat trick,” the barbarian said, astonished. Izumi just gave him a silent grin. Now that the rest of the party had drawn their weapons in full, the melee truly began. Ducking around the side of the open coffin, Narshak swung into the skeleton’s exposed knees, but his sword was quickly parried. A magical bolt sailed over my head into the skeleton, and a shoulderplate sailed across the room, clattering and falling into the wall. I could hear Dem’nion cackle with glee. I attempted to strike again, but the plate armour tuned my sword away AFter he’d finished attempting to negotiate, I’d lost track of Drewan, being focused on the creature at hand. I heard him mutter something, then the Skeleton’s flaming sword began to glisten and slipped out of his hands. The skeleton looked astonished, if a skull could cast such an expression, and quickly attempted to pick the weapon back up. “Hah, my lord, you’ve never encountered a grease spell before!” Crowed Drewan Lundgredolph saw his opening and took it, swinging his axe in a wide arc into the skeleton’s chest. I heard at least one ancient rib crack, and the skeleton staggered back. Karvurk was next, coming in from the side to with another slash where the skeleton had just been, and this provided Lundgredolph with enough of a distraction to bring his axe around on the backswing, giving its armour a dent in the back to match the one on the front. The skeleton roared in frustration, then suddenly went silent. I looked around for what had silenced him, and I could see a gentle glow coming from the end of Izumi’s staff as she dazed and entranced the late tallone form the other side of the coffin Drewan looked astonished. “I can’t believe that worked!” Lundgredolph grunted. “I don’t care” and brought his great axe in for another mighty blow, sending chips of armour and bone throughout the room. Izumi turned to Drewan. “this thing, it’s undead, yes?” Drewan’s brow wrinkled, and he nodded. “I don’t see what difference that-” Izumi drew the healing wand back into her left hand. “Dead creatures and divine healing don’t mix,” she stated calmly, before pointing the wand at Tallone and letting it loose. The same white light that had been so useful to Lundgredolph before shot across the room, and Tallone’s skeletal frame crackled with energy. He stared at Izumi in astonishment “So—passes— Arthour—Tallone” With his dying words, his crackling bones collapsed into a pile, and the aura around his sword and frame dimmed. “Well,” said Dem’nion, “That was less than pleasant” *** Drewan poked through the remains, fishing around in the armour plates and bone fragments, until he held up something in triumph. “The signet ring! I’ve found it!” Drewan held up a golden ring in triumph. “Hey, there’s another one here” “Good, “ said Narshak, poking through the bare sarcophagus, “We can leave this midden-hole.” Having exhausted the sarcophagus, he moved over to the remains and picked up the General’s longsword. He regarded it appraisingly for a moment, and gave it a tentative swing. The sword erupted with blood-red illusory flames, and Narshak held his hand near the blade. Apparently satisfied it wasn’t about to burn him, he slid it into Tallone’s scabbard and affixed it to his belt. “Let me see the other ring,” Karvurk said, taking it from Drewan. “This has a magical feel about it” “Take it,” said Drewan, “If the academy taught me one thing it’s that unknown artifacts must be catalogued and analysed before ever I try to use them” After hunting through the rest of the contents of the room, turning up a scroll and some minor gold pieces, we left the chamber. As we left the room, Lundgredolph stopped. “Wait” He ran back into the room, grabbed Tallone’s felt hat, and stuffed it into his pack. I looked at him with a bemused expression. “For the tribe’s throne room, for all we’ve conquered”







Chapter 4 part I: The junction, and the tomb The party stood still for a moment, as the dust settled and the last zombie corpse stopped twitching. Lundgredolph nudged one with the toe of his boot, then grunted and placed his axe back in its holster, and we all took that as our cue and sheathed our weapons in a similar fashion. Karvurk plucked the stone disk back off the pedestal and stowed it, before stridently marching out of the door. I shook the remaining cinders out of my clothes and inspected the damage. It was a nasty-looking burn, but superficial, so I wrapped it up in a scrap of fabric and put my arm bracer back on. “Come on, you pinkskins,” Karvurk called, “that signet ring won’t find itself” We moved to follow him, back to the junction where the ornate door lay. I looked warily down the path not travelled- the hobgoblin footprints lead out like they’d been running from something “Are we sure we don’t want to check in here, clear it out? I’d hate for something to snaek up behind us” Drewan shot me a look “You’re quite a fan of things sneaking up on other things, something on your mind?” I shrugged. “I play to my strengths, and thinking about sneaking is a valuable skill- especially when others don’t tend to” Dem’nion let out a quiet groan and Drewan quit his banter to focus on him. The sorcerer was looking pained from his earlier wound. “Here, Dem’nion, let me see” Drewan lifted Dem’nion’s tunic away from the wound. “Hold still” Muttering a few words under his breath, Drewan placed his fingers around the gash in his side. There was a flash, and the flesh began to knit and heal, until its severity was vastly lessened and it looked like a minor scratch. “Thankyou, bard.” I looked deep into the other path, trying to discern what was down there. Gingerly testing my footing and checking for the telltale signs of trapped flagstones, I walked a few steps down the hallway, trying to get a sense what was down there. Narshak followed me, the Half Orc sniffing the air and peering down the hallway “Spiderwebs,” he said, “Lots and lots of spiderwebs” He threw his torch down the passage into a room similar in size to where we had fought the risen dead, and as I followed its arc with my eyes I could see what he spoke of. The entire room was covered in cobwebs, some ancient and degenerate, others that looked fresh and new. Drewan joined us, and peered into the hall “I’ve heard tell of giant spiders in these parts, spiders like the ones in the old tales that can eat a man” Lundgredolph scoffed ‘Spiders are piddly little things, as long as they are away from my shithole when I sit down they are no threat” He folded his arms and looked condescendingly at the kitten. Karvurk turned to him “Maybe in the north, where you come from they are tiny. Down here they get bigger, much bigger- I’ve seen some the size of dogs, and heard tell of some the size of cows” Lundgredolph thought about this for a moment, then unfolded his arms, realising we weren’t talking about the Xondol browns that eat flies in the cities. “Do we want to go down there?” I asked Drewan looked uneasily into the room, then turned away “No, our job is the ring, not pest extermination. Given we’re already a little worse for wear, I say we get the ring and get out of here” Karvurk nodded his head, and pulled the stone disc out of his pack. juggling it in his hand to get an idea of the weight, he thought for a second, before placing it into the recess he’d identified earlier. The stone disc fit into the circular recess, and he gave it a twist. A rumbling sound filled the hall, and the door slowly slid into the ceiling, revealing a large, dim room. We shone our lanterns into the room, and in the dark space we could see a single ornate sarcophagus in the room. Drewan muttered a short phrase and pointed his palm into the room, and a series of small point lights flew gently into the room, giving the room a gentle blue glow Dem’nion gazed in. “There’s a bunch of gold in there, up the back, but there could be traps. Abelas, go in there and see what you can trip” “I’m not your lackey, and this isn’t the old kingdoms, you can’t order me around” He sneered at me, and his reply dripped with aristocratic malice “Pretty Please, Abelas, if you would be so kind and deign yourself to go in there? There’s a good elf” I made a gesture at him that would have earned you a face full of knuckles in some of Xondol’s less reputable taverns, and stepped into the room. There were no traps near the entrance, but even someone who isn’t a forest dwelling no-clothes-dancer could tell there was something mystically off about the sarcophagus. I moved aorund the edge of the room, lighting the torches in the wall sconces, until the whole room was filled with light. It was a large room, maybe eight metres square, and other than the sarcophagus there were no other surfaces. The wall was covered in bas-relief carvings and runes, presumably telling more stories from Tallone’s life, but my attention was drawn from them and to the large pile of coins and trinkets beyond the sarcophagus at the back of the room. From where I stood, I could see gold, and gemstones, and other goods all glinting in the torchlight. I waved the others through “I’ve burgled enough places in my time to know that no-one leaves that amount of wealth unguarded, even in tombs. And I’ve cleared everything but the pile and the sarcophagus in here” Izumi walked over to the pile, and began to inspect it. I thought I saw her reach towards it for a second, but she turned around to face us “There’s a couple hundreds worth of gold here, though most of it’s old coins that are alloys, so it’s not as much as it looks like” Narshak joined her and began nudging the pile with his boot. The coins clinked and shifted, but otherwise nothing happened. “It doesn’t look like it’s been moved. Sometimes, old folk left treasure like this- a show of power” Lundgredolph and Drewan moved to the sarcophagus, and began inspecting it. Drewan began muttering to himself, obviously trying to translate, but the Northerner’s approach was simple. Over a short protestation from Drewan, he thumped the coffin with his fist. I tensed up and rested my hand on my sword’s hilt. The sound reverberated around the room, before dying down. Dem’nion glared at him. Drewan moved around the coffin, reading as he went “Here rests the Phoenix Lord, the Slayer of Orcs, Lord Arthour Tallone. Destroyer of the 500 strong Blue Army.” He turned to Narshak. “How does it feel knowing that this man killed many of your people?” Narshak pulled a small vial of in out of his pocket “Not me though” He poured the ink over the inscription, and Drewan left out a brief wail of protest. I pulled my crowbar out of my pack and handed it to Lundgredolph, then worked my way around the coffin, occasionally pressing parts of the carvings with the tip of my dagger. “Seems fine” I moved across to the treasure pile, and began to fossick through it. after a brief dig, I found a couple of nice gemstones- Agate, a nice clear quartz stone, and something I thought might be a Malachite. I knew Grabo could find a buyer for these sorts of stones at a decent rate, and I put them into my pocket “Oi,” said Karvurk, “Save some for us” “You’re welcome to the gold, I prefer stones- easier to transport, easier to hide. Tallone did say to keep anything else we found in here” Narshak pulled a potion out of the pile, holding it up to the light. The deep red liquid sloshed around inside the vial, but I had no idea. I could hear the Northerner grunting and levering the crowbar, and I turned back to him, He’d managed to get the prybar under the lid, After a couple minutes of exhausting effort, he cracked the lid and pushed it aside A blade wreathed in ghostly flame shot out of the sarcophagus and struck him in the gut. He crumpled over, and a voice echoed from the coffin “Who dares defy my tomb!”

To be continued

Chapter 3, Part 2: The fickle nature of fire A chill wind swept through the room, and I felt the skin on the back of my neck crawl. the wind kicked up for a second and then gusted into white, glowing tendrils, which shot towards the stone coffins. With a loud grating of stone-on-stone, the coffin lids began sliding back. and ancient corpses began to stand up from their sarcophagi “Zombies! Aim for the head!” Drewan cried from the other side of the room I raced to the wall and grabbed a torch, trying to take stock of where the rest of the group was. Drewan, Dem’nion and and Izumi had hunkered down below the cracked coffin, which was still smoking but didn’t seem to be sliding like the others. Karvurk had drawn his sword and was standing in an aggressive stance near the pedestal, and Lundgredolph had drawn his great axe and was screaming an ancient war chant. I’d lost Narshak, but I figured I had bigger things to worry about as the zombie in the nearest coffin began to rise. I swung the flaming torch at it, hoping it would ignite as readily as the previous one, but the angle of the coffin lid prevented a true impact. Backing away to gain a better footing, I saw Dem’nion curse as his crossbow bolt sailed wide. “Curse these wounds,” he swore, as he jammed another bolt in and started winding the windlass. Drewan popped out of cover and took a shot, but all I could see from where I was was a look of surprise and then annoyance as his bowstring snapped and he ducked beneath the coffin’s surface. Izumi caught my eye and spotted the torch in my hand, rushing to the closest wall sconce to grab a torch of her own, just in time to fend off a blow from another zombie, which had charged from the far end of the room towards her. circling around it, she struck it in the gut with the torch and it began smoking for a second before bursting into flame, but it continued to fight on undeterred. A creature rushed at the northerner, crying out with a gasping yell. Lundgredolph waited until it was closing in and brought his axe up behind his head. With an oath and a yell , he brought it down in a vertical strike, lopping off one of the creature’s arms and half its torso. He followed through by blocking the creature’s lightning fast punch on the flat of the blade and bringing the blade up for another overhand swing, taking the other arm off. Suddenly, Narshak was behind the creature: he had drawn his sword and thrust it up through the back of its head. For a moment the creature had an extended tongue made of iron, before it collapsed, dead once again To my left, Karvurk snarled as the undead warrior that I’d attempted to light shrugged off a sword strike, and the dried creature struck out with a withered fist, which would have split Karvurk’s skull had he not ducked out of the way. I rushed in and attempted to light the creature with my torch, but I couldn’t get the dry creature to light as readily as Izumi had. In frustration, I circled around it as Karvurk kept dodging and weaving, staying mere moments ahead of its pummelling blows. He inserted his sword blade into one of his arm joints and reduced its left arm to a stump, and I struck again with the torch. Fire is a fickle weapon, and if I hadn’t seen one of the undead creatures already go up in flames I’d never have used the torch. As I struck the creature, the head of the torch collapsed into a shower of hot coals, which slipped down my gloves and into my left bracer. I felt a searing pain and cried out, dropping the torch and attempting to pull off first my left glove and then the bracer strapped beneath it. I smelt the burned flesh and flashed back to that time in the dungeon, how they’d brought the poker close to my ears where I could hear the heat before they’d plunged it into the flesh. Never again *** Across the room, Izumi and Dem'nion had cornered the flaming zombie, Izumi fending off its blows while Dem'nion filled it with crossbow bolts, firing as he circled across to another coffin for cover. Drewan gave up on attempting to fix his bow and brought his sword out in a textbook strike, and I mean textbook- i’d seen combat manuals in the hightown houses, useless in a street scrap but oddly effective against an unthinking foe. The creature was bisected through its waist, and fell to the stone floor in smoking pieces, the torso still attempting to claw at the scholarly catfolk. He regarded it for a second then brought his booted foot down onto its head, which shattered into dust and stopped the creature’s flailing for good. I spotted a zombie sneaking up on Karvurk and the central pillar, and moved to cry out and warn him, but no sooner had I opened my mouth than Lundgredolph was upon it, yelling incoherently and enraged. He brought his great axe up and over, cleaving the creature from the top of its skull to where its belly button would be. The creature stopped, and still standing the two halves slowly began to topple away from each other, leaving the body a grotesque Y shaped statue. Narshak rushed past me to engage the last surviving zombie as I cleared the last of the cinders from my skin- superficial wounds, but they’d be a painful reminder for a few days of the value of a good steel blade. He swung at the zombie and hacked a chunk out of its thigh, but the creature was relentless. Enough I drew my sword, the cold steel reflecting the torchlight, and plunged the sword deep into the creature’s chest. It tried to grab the blade with its remaining arm, but I pulled the sword up through its dried sternum and out the neck, flingin the creature’s head across the room to land at Dem'nion’s feet. The creature flopped and died, and the room was once again still.

Chapter 3, part 1: An interrogation and an immolation Lundgredolph stirred, and woke up, rubbing his head. After a moment staring into space, the northerner stood up/ shaky on his legs at first and surveyed the room. I’m sure, to him, we were not the finest hunting party- a kitten barely left the litter looking sheepishly at the dead hobgoblins, an elven sorcerer looking even more pale and sickly than usual sitting on the ground with a pained expression, and myself, still wondering why i’d been so eager to leave Xondol in the first place. Karvurk called from across the room, where he and Izumi were restraining the surviving Hobgoblin “I think this grakkakk better start talking” “Hold on,” Izumi said, “we’d better bring Narshak in. Also, give that a kick.” She pointed at Beorn, still passed out on the floor of the room, blissfully unaware of the chaos that had ensued mere minutes before. I walked over and jabbed beorn with my foot. The bearded man gave a loud snore, and didn’t rouse at all. The sleep of the barfly. For someone who often ended up in taverns creating schemes or meeting one associate our another, i’d never been a heavy drinker. I can only imagine what I’d have done if i’d drunk what Beorn had, and the downside of having an active mind is being able to visualise it vividly. “Leave him,” said Izumi, “he’ll only slow us down” Narshak entered, having been fetched by Drewan from his sentry post on the other side of the stone door. The half-orc stared at the companions and the dead Hobgoblins “You should have fetched me, I like killing these wretches” He spotted the bound hobgoblin and crossed to him in large strides, planting his boot into the creature’s ribs. The goblin woke with a start, and then spat at the ranger, the bloody spittle running down the half-orc’s shin guards. Narshak stared at him for a moment, then kicked him again, the hobgoblin crying out. Narshak began yelling at him in the bastard goblin tongue. They yelled back and forth for a moment, then Drewan joined the conversation. I shot a quizzical look at Izumi, and she began translating. “Why have you come here,” Drewan asked. “We mean you no harm!” The hobgoblin gave Drewan a dark look. “You, furball, keep terrible company. Those two weak pointy ears”- he looked at Dem'nion- “And this blood traitor who would use magic.” He seemed to have saved most of his venom for Karvurk, who responded with a dismissive glare. Narshak kicked him again “Stop that Narshak!” Drewan seemed to stop and think for a moment, as if recalling an old story. “You have fought honourably within the Mût, Hobgoblin, and that is worthy of our respect” Even someone who’s never really dealt with Hobgoblins has heard of the Mût, the hobgoblin honour rituals. It’s a complex and bizarre honour philosophy, and most hobgoblin tribes practice a variant of it. Evidently this one didn’t, as he laughed at Drewan before spitting again “The Mût! We haven’t followed the Mût in our band for centuries, you hairy housepet!” I saw a flicker of annoyance pass across Drewan’s face. Karvurk took up the questioning “What are you doing here?” “We will use this place for a grand fortress! Our chieftain will find you and eat your hearts! Except you, blood traitor, he’d never taint himself with your magic using offal!” Lundgredolph listened to Izumi’s translation, then drew his axe. “He’s telling us nothing of use. Kill him.” “Hold on,” I said, reaching out to stay the Northerner’s hand “ask him what’s further in the tomb” Izumi rattled off a couple of quick sentences to the goblin, then listened to his reply “He says that his warband is in here, and will kill us” “How long have they been here? Did they see anyone from the other adventuring party” The hobgoblin spst a curse at Izumi, then followed up with another string of sentences. Izumi paraphrased him “More palaver about his chieftain, drink from our skulls, usual threats from low minded fools. He says they’ve only been here 3 days” I looked up at the rope that we’d spotted before. “He’s lying. There’s no way a whole warband came in on that rope” Lundgredolph shrugged me off, then swung his axe at the goblin’s head, severing it cleanly with a brief spray of black blood “If he’s lying he was of no further use to us.” I’m usually a live and let live type- a living enemy could always become an asset at a later date. Saying that, even I had to admit that I didn’t much like the idea of leaving a Hobgoblin with a warband possibly close to hand at our backs. Drewan seemed taken aback by the quick execution “What if his warband is in here, we could have used him to secure our passage” Dem'nion stood up, clutching his side which he’d placed some rudimentary bandages on “He was bluffing, flea scratcher. There’s no way a warband has made it’s way anywhere near here” “But they could be just outside the tomb- we could climb the rope and see!” I shook my head “We’re not here to hunt hobgoblins, we’re here to fetch Tallone’s ring” “And I’m in no condition to climb a rope” Dem'nion had a hunted look about him, like he was expecting more hobgoblins to appear and slaughter him at any point. Drewan approached him, reaching out his hands in supplication “Let me help you, friend. I may be able to tend your wounds!” Dem'nion pushed him away “it’s your fault that I’m in this condition! If you hadn’t shot the sleeping goblin he’d never have stabbed me!” Though he was technically correct, it appeared Dem'nion’s ire was directed at the whole world, rather than just me. “Enough Talk.” Lundgredolph pushed open the door that had previously knocked him out. “We find the ring, and I kill any other creature within this tomb that tries to stop us.” *** I moved down the hallway with the tribesman, his large frame catching reflections from the lanternlight. Narshak walked with us, following the hobgoblin tracks down the gloomy and dusty hallway while our own hobgoblin examined the carvings on the wall. The stone passage seemed blessedly clear of traps, and the cool stones seemed like they had been undisturbed in an age. We reached a junction, two paths branching off to the left and right while the way forward was stopped by a large stone door. The door was even more elaborately carved than even the impressive entry hall we’d come I through. I could follow the bas-relief on the door- it seemed to tell the story of the legendary Tallone defeating the Ogre tribes, wielding a spear and with a great army at his back. Despite the at times simple geometry of the figures, the phoenix motif was ever present- here roosting protectively over camps and cities, still in other places soaring over the battlefield. Narshak moved next to me and examined the relief. “Seems like our man Tallone was a bit of a hero.” I said. “Or at least managed to convince everyone he was” Narshak gave a brief tusked grin, then tried to push the door. It seemed solid and implacable, so he began running his fingers over the carvings looking for switches or latches. He widened his search to the arch around the door before placing his hand on a particular sconce “There’s something missing here.” The orc moved his torch closer, and Karvurk and I leaned in to examine it. Sure enough, a circular gap sat in the wall, with a square peg jutting out of the centre. I could see a mechanism leading back into the wall, but it was too far inset to access. “Must be a key of some sort” Karvurk rubbed his scar and looked around, before calling the rest of the party down the hall Narshak had moved on from the doorway and was examining the tracks in the dust. “The hobgoblins came up this far then went…left. Looks like they walked in slowly, then ran out” Narshak sniffed. “Looks like whatever they found down there put the fear of night into them” “Well they did kind of fall into us, so perhaps they were scouts or similar.” Narshak looked at the tracks and pondered for a moment “I have hunted hobgoblins many times, across many terrains. A task like this would generally only be given to the lowest of the low within the tribe” By now the rest of the party had joined us, and we briefly discussed whether to follow in the footsteps of the goblins, or forge our own way down the right hand path. In the end, the road less travelled seemed like the best option, and we ventured forth into the black depths *** We came to a high ceilinged room, large enough to manoeuvre around but smaller than the embalming room. A central plinth immediately drew the eye, chest high and simply carved. Atop the plinth rested a stone disc about a handspan in size, with a square hole in the centre. Surrounding the plinth in two rows were six stone coffins, angular and smooth with little adornment. The walls continued with more of the same relief carvings that adorned the rest of the tomb, and ancient torches sat in holders evenly spaced around the walls. I moved cautiously into the room, still on the lookout for traps, and began lighting the torches as I went. The wicks were still viable, and with a little coaxing they all blazed to light, illuminating the room with a warm glow. I waved the party into the room, turning down and closing the door on my lantern to preserve oil before removing my pack and placing it in a corner. Stretching, I began to examine the ancient stone plinth. Narshak eyed the plinth warily “That appears to be the key to the other door, but i’m uneasy” “Yes, who leaves a key out in the open like that?” Drewan moved past me, reading the ancient text on the sarcophagi. Running his paw over it, he muttered under his breath for a second before reading the inscriptions loudly “Here lies the trusted allies and servants of the almighty Tallone.” A quaver appeared in his voice “they serve him still in death as they did in life” Karvurk eyed the cat, his narrow expression wrinkling around his facial scar “Still in death? Does that mean these tombs are haunted?” Dem'nion took several steps back, seemingly to protect his own scrawny neck “I’m not in any condition to be fighting ghosts or any other dead things! What if it’s the undead?” Lundgredolph fiddled with the bundle on his pack for a minute, and produced a large hammer from his bound stock of weapons before setting his pack next to mine “I can stop anything rising from these tombs” With a swift overhead swing, he started pounding the top of one of the stone coffins. I heard Drewan gasp, and saw the hackles on the back of his neck raise “What are you doing? These could be of great archaeological value!” Lundgredolph took another swing “That, fur man.” I looked at Karvurk and shrugged, and we moved over to another stone coffin to see if we could push one of the lids off. The coffin lid was tightly attached, though whether it was cemented or just have was difficult to tell. Despite Karvurk, myself and Narshak all applying our full weight, the thing would barely budge. Over the loud smashes that the northern tribesman was driving into the coffin, I could hear Drewan’s protests growing louder and shriller. “But what of your traditions, Lundgredolph? Would you do this to the graves of your tribe?” The Northerner shrugged “These graves are not of my tribe” With an almighty crack, he finally opened a hole in the top of his coffin, the grey stone dust giving his beard an odd coating. He pulled away a few stone chips, enough to make a two-fist-sized hole in the top, then gestured first to Izumi and then to the now blazing torches on the wall. Izumi brought a torch to him and over Drewan’s protests he roughly shoved the lit torch through the cracked coffin lid. We heard a dry crackle within, then thick smoke began billowing out of the crack, with an orange glow at the base Drewan’s hectoring stopped abruptly. “Whatever’s in there is burning too well to be a normal dry body” Dem'nion laughed “burned many bodies, kitten?” Drewan looked angrily at Dem'nion “No, but i’m smart enough to know what smoke from a funeral pyre should look like, master elf” Lundgredolph moved to the next coffin, wiping sweat from his forehead “If we want to crack all of these, we’ll be here for hours, assuming this hammer stays intact.” I went over to my pack and unhooked a faithful old tool from it. Sometimes thieving relies less on fine lock picking and stealthy infiltration and more on the old smash and grab, and a crowbar had long been my tool of choice for such jobs. The fact that you could use it as a pretty nasty weapon in a pinch didn’t hurt. I handed it to the Northerner and gestured to a coffin. He stuck the pry end of crowbar under an edge and gestured Karvurk and Narshak to provide pressure while he jimmied it, but despite his best efforts the coffins were sealed by the intervening years. Lundgredolph wiped his forehead from the exertion and tossed the crowbar back to me “Looks like our northerner has run out of strength for now” said Izumi I used the hook end of the crowbar to probe around the central plinth in the room, looking for anything that might hide a nasty surprise for anyone attempting to interfere with it. “Well, if it’s trapped it’s not mechanical and is therefore out of my area of expertise” Dem'nion’s eyes flashed “There’s something magical connecting the coin to the coffins” “Ah well,” growled Karvurk, “nothing ventured…” And with that, he lifted the stone disc off the pedestal.

Drewan’s Letters Home: Part 2 - The Arrow’s Yaw Dear Gerran, I almost killed a man. I don’t mean some random assailant, in defence of our lives. I speak of a friend, of a fellow traveller and companion. I did not strike the blow, with my blade or bow, but surely as the sun rises every morning his blood is on my hands. When I last wrote you, the massive door awaited, it’s secrets unbreached and our minds at ease. There was an almost jovial atmosphere as our little group rested and talked amongst ourselves. I of course sat alone to complete my writings, lest Beorn consume my ink supplies. I need not have worried, however. As we made ready to breach the door he was seen to be clutching his stomach and moaning “Beorn… feel funny,” which I would have considered the end of it had he not proceeded to immediately vomit a small black puddle on the floor of the cave. I smiled smugly to myself, thinking that perhaps in this case the pen had proved mightier than the sword. I would soon regret my hubris. Coming to his aid, however was help from an unexpected source. Narshak quickly went to the druid’s aid and after a cursory examination declared him the victim of a mild case of ink poisoning. “Slow acting,” quipped Abelas, “for it to take 3 days to manifest. Surprised anything at all could fell the fellow’s stomach, what with his dietary habits.” Narshak nodded sagely and volunteered to act as a rear guard, ensuring we hadn’t been followed. Eager to move on, we agreed, and our attentions turned once more to the great door before us. The door was quite large, stretching fully from floor to ceiling but otherwise unremarkable. Hinged on the left, it appeared as if the door had not been opened in quite some time, perhaps even so long as since it was originally sealed shut. Carefully moving forward so as to not overly disturb the accumulated dust of hundreds of years Dem’nion placed an ear to the stonework. “I hear some vibrations from deeper inside the crypt,” he declared, “but nothing inside the room itself. At least… I don’t think there is.” Searching deep within myself I whispered the word of power taught to me when travelling as a caravan member, and with a slight flick of the wrist cast my mind forward, beyond the door. I could feel the same magical presence, far off and distant, that we had felt tugging us ever forward since first we entered this damn tomb, but apart from this portent felt nothing new or of danger beyond the confines of the awaiting room. “There’s no magical auras in there,” I announced, “I think it’s safe to go forward.” Satisfied that it was safe Karvurk moved and made ready to open the door, though he was the only one to move forward. “A little help here?” he grumbled. Eager to assist in any way that I could I eagerly stepped forward, surprised that still everybody else stayed behind. “I may be small, but working together I know we can do this Karvurk!” I said, optimistic. Grunting his assent and looking sceptically at my frail feline features, he said “On three?” I nodded. “One. Two. Three!” he counted and we both pressed our shoulders in to the door as hard as we could, our muscles straining with the effort. The accumulated dust of antiquity stirred around us as we slipped, struggled and grasped for purchase on the smooth worn floor, until at last, with a groan and a creak the door slid forward a few millimetres but remained firmly shut. Exhausted and panting from the effort I slid down along the door and Karvurk kicked out at it in anger. Muttering a curse he stalked away in to the shadow to regroup his thoughts, and I quickly picked myself up from off of the floor. There was no way I was going to accept defeat so easily! Working together, I knew in my heart that no obstacle could stand in our way. Least of all a stone door at the first sign of any challenge. “Come on, everybody!” I chirped cheerfully, “This isn’t any great challenge, it’s just a door. Working as a team, surely we can open it. I believe in our combined power, I believe in each and every one of us. We can do this!” Abelas looked shocked and sceptical, but begrudgingly stepped forward to offer his assistance. Looking at the ground I caught Dem’nion’s eye avoiding my gaze but with determination I found him meeting my challenge and he reluctantly stepped forward to the door as well. Only Lundgredolph and Izumi remained firmly where they stood. Shrugging my shoulders, I accepted all the help we could muster. “OK, Karvurk, ready to try again?” I smiled in to the darkness where I knew he stood. Boldly striding forward he took his place at the seam of the door, with myself and Dem’nion beside him, covering the door so thoroughly that Abelas stood back a step and watched our progress seeking an opportunity to intervene. “One. Two. Three!” I counted, this time, “Push!!” Once again Karvurk and myself strained against the door but poor Dem’nion found himself struggling to have any effectual strength exerted and soon found Abelas shoving him roughly away from the door. “Out of the way, weakling, let me show you how it’s done in the real world!” he snapped impatiently and took the now vacant place against the stubborn stone surface. Grunting, sweating, straining the three of us gave it our all, and just when we thought that all hope was lost and we would be defeated there was a shrieking of stone grating on metal hinges and the seal was broken. The door swung open, and triumphant we stared in to that gloomy portal. Even before our lanterns and lights penetrated the darkness we could see a single, brilliant shaft of golden sunlight piercing through the black. It shone indiscriminately, though without direction or purpose, serving only to shine at a seemingly random place on the floor. Karvurk, tired from opening the door and displeased by the sudden intrusion of sunshine, hung back as Abelas and I took a hesitant step across the threshold. Immediately I noticed an irregularity in the pattern of the light beam, discerning there to be some kind of rope dangling freely. Sensing that there was no immediate danger Izumi brought herself to the fringe of the door and peered in to the room proper. “Is that…? What’s that stain on the floor in the light?” She pondered out loud, and sure enough when we directed our eyes to the floor there was some kind of drain and an oddly shaped copper coloured stain. Directly opposite, in the shadows, a similar stone door as the one we had opened lay wide open beckoning in to the blackness. Looking around the room once more, a tiny thread of worry etched itself in the back of my mind. “Why would that door be open, if the door we came through was firmly closed?” I wondered aloud. “Isn’t it obvious? Others have been through here,” quipped Abelas, “or else we’ve come across some rather lazy tomb designers.” “Whoever it was,” Izumi continued “has been through this room in a hurry.” Looking around in earnest and directing the lights around the enclosed space I began to notice the disarray that filled the room. There were overturned tables and benches, ceramic jars and vials out of place, and from the lack of dust covering the objects it appeared to have been done recently. “Somebody was searching for something!” I exclaimed. “Have Tallone’s men arrived here before us?” There was a brief murmur of agreement from Lundgredolph as he entered the room. I found myself walking over to the shaft of light, however, where Abelas stood looking upwards in curiosity with one hand gently tugging at the rope. Happy to offer my assistance I too looked upwards, and squinting I was able to discern some wooden structure at the top of the hole. “Look, Abelas,” I began, “Is that a frame up there? That must be where the rope is attached, but who could have built it, and why?” Abelas nodded sagely and I swelled with pride, however when I put my mind to the task of identifying who would have built such a structure in such a place I found my mind empty on the subject. There is just so much I don’t know about the areas surrounding Xondol, I must make it a point to brush up on my local geography and history when we return. Dem’nion had been studying the shelves while we attempted to understand the puzzle of the rope. Calling the group over we found what appeared to be storage for a long dead apothecary. Vials and jars of liquids, of every colour and consistency were fairly neatly arranged. Somehow these had been overlooked or ignored by the travellers who preceded us. Casting my eye across them I was unable to personally discern their purpose. “There’s nothing of value here,” Abelas declared once he had riffled through the accumulated containers himself. Snorting with derision Dem’nion pushed Abelas aside. “I wouldn’t expect a Lowborn to know what real value was,” he spat. “Take this,” he continued, selecting a vial from amongst the collection. “This is what happens to blood that has been stored for centuries.” I felt the bile rise in my throat at that comment. “And this,” he said, holding up a small jar, “is what happens when an alcohol is concentrated over a similar amount of time.” “Beorn. Drink!” cried the druid, almost gleefully, and in one foul gulp drank down the entire jar. Almost as quickly he slumped against the wall, his breathing heavy and rhythmic. “Filthy creature,” said Dem’nion, “If he had any patience at all I would have been able to warn him about the soporific effects.” “I shall look after him,” declared Lundredolph, “it’s not my first experience with a drunken stupor.” Sitting heavily on Beorn’s slumbering form, Dem’nion once again addressed the gathering. “Of most interest, and value,” he said with a withering glance at Abelas, “are these potions of healing. They aren’t very potent after so long in storage, but handy to have around nonetheless. Catch, Lowborn.” Tossing a vial at Abelas, he proceeded to hand one to myself, Izumi, and Karvurk. Tucking the last vial in his belt, Dem’nion declared with finality, “Maybe next time you won’t be so quick to judge worth, heh?” Attempting to diffuse the situation, I tried to compliment Dem’nion on his find, uttering “Guren Glassuij” but I guess my Elvish is a bit rusty. Abelas looked at me curiously, and said slowly, “Good… effort… Kitten.” I would have responded had not three hobgoblins, weapons drawn, burst through the open door at that very moment. Yelling chaotically at us in Goblin I made out the words “Intruders!” as they gesticulated threateningly with their weapons. We formed a united front, I’m proud to say, and shouting back I attempted my own veiled threat in Goblin, Shii marhu polto huuntad ka ruuska atchot, though I confess it took my mind longer to form the sentence than I would have liked. Dem’nion made the shadows dance ominously, his hands glowing with power, compelling the hobgoblins to drop their weapons as Izumi and Karvurk joined in the shouting match, which gave us time to ready our own weapons and prepare to meet the danger head on. Catching the hobgoblins off guard Izumi twisted gracefully and with a powerful shout cast some form of sleeping spell, causing the two outer hobgoblins to drop to the ground in slumber. Their leader, or whom I can only assume to be their leader being the largest of the three, shook his head with anger, and charged forward at her, his axe held high. Lucky for Izumi, he appeared to stumble slightly as he passed over an overturned stool and his axe cut only the air this day. Perhaps it was the heat of the battle, but I was unable to identify the particular sub-species of Hobgoblin these were and so unable to discern any particular weaknesses. I felt so ashamed, all my years of training had come to this and when it mattered most I was unable to assist. Gritting my teeth I notched an arrow and drew down. I would prove my worth, no matter what. Aiming at the sleeping hobgoblin on the right, I saw his chest rise and fall and knew that if I just concentrated I would be able to make this shot. Certain that his form would not move out of the way, I nearly closed my eyes as I released the bowstring, but was rewarded by the satisfying squelch as arrow embedded within flesh, and the hobgoblin’s eye snapped open with pain. Charging in to the melee Karvurk sought an opening between Izumi and the hobgoblin but was unable to put any force behind the blow. Dem’nion, his hands still glowing threateningly released a bolt of power that truly sought out the leader of the group, clipping the shot on his shoulder. I saw a sly grin form on the mouth of the elf, taking pleasure in the felling of his foe, but the hobgoblin only grimaced slightly and didn’t seem to be worried by the injury. It was then that I realised the error of my thinking. The hobgoblin I had awoken stood to his feet, groggily shaking his head. With an angry cry he tore the arrow shaft from his shoulder and picked up his axe, staring menacingly. Not one to make the same mistake I had, I noticed Abelas slipping through the shadows along the wall of the room, making his way to the still sleeping hobgoblin on the floor. I only prayed he would be able to act before this one too awoke. Stepping back to find room Izumi made a similar gesture as before, and I thought I caught a word of “cloudiness” in the confusion, but the leader proved to be of sterner stuff than we could have imagined, shaking his head with fury. Anxious to take down this formidable warrior I drew another arrow from my quiver, and notching the bowstring aimed at the hobgoblin Captain. In the chaos however, I was unable to get a clean shot, although I counted myself fortunate that Karvurk was not himself hit as the arrow whistled past his head and clattered against the far wall of the room. Furious at the attention the leader swung his axe at Karvurk, and I saw the blade sink in to the armour on Karvurk’s shoulder, the blade coming free with a sickening gasping noise, accompanied by a strong flow of crimson. Badly shaken Karvurk staggered backwards, groping maddeningly for the potion only so recently given to him by Dem’nion. Gulping it down the flow of blood was staunched, but I could see Karvurk still gasping in pain. Once more Dem’nion’s hands, and I could have sworn his eyes glowed as well, burst with energy and a missile streaked forward to slam the chest of the leader. Eyes wide at the threat to his superior, the now awakened hobgoblin I had shot ran across the room. Seeing an opening, seeking vengeance for his spilled blood, Karvurk held his blade firmly in the path of the charging hobgoblin. Slicing along his side the force of the hobgoblin’s movement carved the blade deep in to his gut, but shaking off the pain he was able to raise his axe and bring it crashing down on Dem’nion’s head. Dem’nion collapsed to the floor, blood oozing from his skull, unconscious. Almost as in retribution my attention was drawn to Abelas, who stood with his sword ready over the unconscious form of the third creature. With a force that belied his form the point of the sword plunged downwards, in to the neck of the hobgoblin and the next sound was that of metal against the stone floor. Unable to even utter a cry in death, his spine severed, this was one hobgoblin who would not be able to trouble us. A rainbow of light streamed forth from Izumi’s hands, and once more the largest hobgoblin shook his head, unaffected. I found myself wondering in that split second if perhaps he had received training in resisting the magical arts as part of his military service. “Only fools take potions, have you forgotten your roots!?” yelled the leader at Karvurk, and I found myself automatically translating the outburst in my head. “Embrace the fury of the hobgoblin!” Swinging at Karvurk, who was able to scramble backwards to safety, I could see flecks of spittle fly from this monster’s lips; so palpable was his rage. My own feelings must have been clear as day, even in the shadows of this underground tomb. Shaking with anguish I turned and notched another arrow from my quiver, aiming at the grinning hobgoblin who stood over Dem’nion’s body. It was my fault that Dem’nion was injured, an in my grief I was unable to shoot straight with the arrow falling harmlessly to the floor. The arrow drew his attention however, and I found myself facing the cruelly grinning visage of death charging at me, his axe still dripping with the blood of my fallen friend. Dancing lightly on my feet, I avoided the danger, and dropped my bow to the floor. In that instant I could see Karvurk and the larger hobgoblin still engaged in their own mortal dance, the clang of axe on sword ringing in my ears. That was all Abelas needed to drive the point of his sword in to the leader’s gut, and I saw him drop to his knees in pain. Drawing my own sword, I engaged the killer before me. Fearing Dem’nion’s death, I swung with out care or consideration, hoping to deal the strike of vengeance. Coming to my aid, Izumi and I flanked the final foe, she swinging her staff, and I my sword. Together we drew the hobgoblin in to a final stand, and though it was not my sword that felled him, I smiled broadly when Izumi’s staff crashed in to that fiend’s skull. Rushing to Dem’nion’s side I was relieved to find him still breathing and Izumi poured the potion that had falled from Den’nion’s belt in the scuffle down his throat. Still sleeping though, I began to rub his belly and shake him in an effort to draw the elf back to consciousness. “Wake up, Dem’nion. Please wake up, I’m sorry!” I found myself whispering. I found Abelas standing over me, with a quizzical look. “What are you doing?” he enquired. “I’m waking him up, isn’t this right?” I replied. “Stand aside, kitten. Watch, and learn.” Grabbing Dem’nion’s nose, he closed the airway and gave a sharp tug, which caused Dem’nions eyes to snap open, until they narrowed with derision at finding Abelas above him. Slapping Abelas’ hand away, he struggled to sit up, and they once again traded insults. I was just happy to find Dem’nion alive. So, you see, Gerran. My actions, my naivety, almost led to me losing a friend. I don’t know how I will ever be able to make it up to him, and I feel so foolish that I performed so poorly in our first fight. Perhaps it would be better if I had stayed in the village. I never wanted to be out here, and it caused me to nearly end an elf’s life. An elf I was supposed to be helping protect, an elf who was supposed to be helping me in return. Other matters await us, however. Karvurk has tied up and secured the leader, the one who brought forth this mess. It’s time for us to get a few answers. I hope to have answers for you, and for myself, the next time I write. Yours in Irori, Drewan.

Chapter 2: The Room, The Rope, and a near death experience We moved past the deactivated trap, walking through the glamour on the floor. The glamour his a gore-slicked grating, obviously reasonably freshly renewed with a new coating of dark brown blood. Beorn tasted the dried blood/ and pointed at the ceiling. “More humans” The stone door stood ahead of us, carved with more of the same sort of reliefs that we’d seen I. The main chamber. Dem'nion regarded the door for a moment, and closed his eyes. “Nothing magical on the other side” I pressed my left ear against the door, the stone a cold soothe to the old brandings i’d been given in the dungeons, and touched the hinges on the left with my fingertips. I held my breath. Nothing. A couple of faint vibrations, but they could be rabbits in the earth above, or the stone structure heating and cooling “Seems clear” Narshak looked down the hallway “I will stay here for now, as a guard, until we are sure” The half orc drew his bow and, sidestepping the glamour as much as he could, took station just down the hallway. Karvurk turned his attention to the door, sizing it up as though he was looking it over to install in his house, before turning to Drewan “Furball, help me here.” The kitten and the hobgoblin pressed their shoulders into the door, shifting it a little. Karvurk turned to the rest of the party “Well, don’t just stand there!” Izumi regarded him with a look of utter scorn, which I wish I could bottle and sell at an apothecary as a cure for egos, then turned to chat with Lundgredolph, the northerner looking uneasy in the enclosed space. Dem'nion took a look at the door, then ran at it with his shoulder, running into it with all the force of a maiden’s handkerchief in a spring dance. I rolled my eyes and dragged him out of the way, then pressed my shoulder into the spot he’d vacated, and we felt the door shift under our shoulders until it swung inward. Izumi looked back at the door “Nice work, gentlemen” Sooner or later, I thought, this woman is going to have to get her hands dirty. Through the open door we could see into a small chamber, about eight metres on a side, with a matching door on the far side. The room looked like it had once been a workshop of some kind, but it had been overturned and tossed at some point. The room was dark except in the centre, where a shaft of light came down from the roof, illuminating a greenish stain, another drainage gate… And a rope. The rope looked new, and I followed it up with my eyes to where it intersected with the ceiling. A jagged hole appeared up there, with the rope obviously leading outside, and recently. Drewan looked wide eyed around the room and its disarray, then up at the rope. “Do we think Tallone’s cousin’s men arrived here before us?” Lundgredolph walked over to the far door and began expecting it, finding it slightly ajar “Perhaps. Could be other looters” I looked up the shaft, trying to find the rope’s anchor point. Giving it a hard tug, the rope seemed secure. Drewan joined me in peering up into the natural light, squinting in the sun “Look, Abelas, there’s a whole wooden frame up there” I squinted up the length of the rope, and sure enough a wooden frame had been lashed together, the rope secured to an anchor point in the centre. I had no idea who had done it, but it seemed like a well organised group. Shucking my backpack for a moment, I moved over to the edges of the room, examining the refuse that had been cast off from the benches and shelves. Looked like the room had once been an active workspace, and the edges of the room were filled with rusted out tools and mysterious vials, some long dried, some still sealed and liquid. I held one up to my lantern, but the vial remained mysterious to me. I’d never trafficked in potions or alchemy; too hard to fence, and certainly not fun when scrambling away across rooftops. The vials may have been a mystery for me, but Beorn was obviously unfazed by the unknown- or at least just thirsty. He took the vial from me and uncorked it, downing the contents in one large gulp. He looked appraisingly at the vial for a moment, before keeling over and letting out a loud snore. Dem'nion came across to the sleeping wild man, and sniffed the vial. “Embalming fluid. He’ll have a nasty headache when he wakes up. If he wakes up, the fool” Dem'nion came over to the vials and started fossicking through the pile with his long, sharp-nailed fingers. “Mostly junk- embalming unguents, old wine, except… These.” He pulled a couple of gourds out of the pile. “Potions, healing. Could be of some use.” He tossed them around the room, before putting one into a pouch at his belt. We didn’t know at the time how prescient that comment would end up being. Lundgredolph moved over to the far door and placed his ear against it, to listen for anything coming down the hallway. He jerked his head back from the thick stone quickly, but not quick enough, as the large stone door swung towards him, catching him in a solid blow to the head. I saw him go down, but my attention was quickly diverted by the three armed and armoured Hobgoblins that had burst through the door. *** I’d been around many races in Xondol- if it has two legs and speaks common, there’s a good chance it has some presence in the bouillabaisse that was the great trade city. Hobgoblins, however, had always seemed thoroughly uncouth to me- too hostile to really bother trying to pull a job with, and just smart enough that conning them would be too difficult. I’d picked up enough Orcish to converse at length, talking over wine and other drinks in the dockside taverns, listening to Orcish eddas and bawdy tribal stories. I could also fleece a Gnoll out of its hard earned in two distinct dialects, a skill i’d learned for a particularly involved but lucrative job i’d been on with Pierras and the old con mastermind Jacopo du Caleraco, a notorious rake and excellent crew leader. Goblin, to me, had always seemed like a vile tongue. So when the Hobgoblins arrived and began yelling at first Karvurk and then Dem'nion I had no idea what they were on about. The central of the three seemed to be the leader, and his scarred visage and worn armour had seen many battles. The other two looked green (well, hobgoblins are always green, but they looked inexperienced) and seemed content to let their leader continue to prattle at Karvurk and Izumi, who had moved to confront them.I did understand the axes they had at their belts, however, and Dem'nion pulled some seelie lightshow to make his puny frame seem bigger and more threatening. Didn’t seem to work. I saw Izumi ready her staff, and placed my hand on the hilt of my longsword in preparation. I listened to Karvurk yell at the three hobgoblins until one of them drew its axe. I unsheathed my sword just in time to see Izumi unleash something from her staff, which dropped two of the goblins into a deep sleep. The third hobgoblin swung at her with his axe, though perhaps dazed by her spell the swing went wide. Drewan nocked an arrow and fired and though his shot was true I think I or one of the other combatants might have to teach him a thing or two about battlefield tactics- aim at the one who’s actively trying to kill you, not one of the ones who was on the ground not moving at all! The hobgoblin awoke with a scream, and started scrambling for its axe By this point Karvurk had managed to draw his sword, and he immediately engaged the one that was assailing Izumi. Bringing his sword up into a high guard, he swung down in a near textbook swing, but had to pull back at the last moment to avoid hitting our comrade. The enemy hobgoblin shifted to the right, then brought his axe around in a wide swing, clipping Karvurk in the ribs. Though his armour took most of the blow, I heard him gasp and snarl back something in goblin. Dem'nion, having killed his light show, struck out at the lead goblin with a magical bolt of force, followed rapidly by another, channeling the bolt through a wicked looking curved dagger, then shifted towards the screaming goblin, which was scrambling to its feet. I could see the other goblin starting to stir, so I bolted across the room towards him, picking my way past the overturned tables. I ducked down as Drewan fired another arrow, the shot sailing wide as it flew towards the Screamer. The shot was followed by another channeled spell from Izumi, but it appeared to have no effect on either of the active hobgoblins The Screamer goblin had obviously had enough of being Dem'nion’s target practice, and charged towards him, axe first. Karvurk slashed him on the way past in a strong two handed slice, then reached to his belt and pulled out the healing draught from before, gulping it down to ease the pain in his side. Suddenly, he switched his sword to his right hand, and began moving his left fingers in a complex pattern. Energy began to crackle between his fingers as he turned back to the goblin leader, alternating blows with his lightning charged hand and his sword. I could see the still sleeping hobgoblin stirring, and I wasn’t going to give it a chance to get back up. Crossing the last metre or two towards him I grabbed my sword in a two handed stance, and ran it through its throat. It gurgled for a moment, then went silent. I then turned back towards the melee across the room The leader goblin reached Dem'nion and engaged him, and despite his smaller size the Hobgoblin managed to get inside the range of the sorcerer’s dagger. The hobgoblin elbowed him in the gut, before cracking him in the jaw with a fist. I saw Dem'nion exhale and double over before the Hobgoblin brought its axe through into the elf’s side. Dem'nion fell to his knees, blood running down his waist and pooling below him. I could see him slump and struggle to look at his attacker, who let out a laugh and circled around him, swaying his axe back and forth casually and ready to deliver a killing blow. I wasn’t going to be able to make it to the screamer in time. *** I’ve been in a lot of fights over the years, some petty street scuffles that end in a little more than a broken nose and others that have been a little bit more life and death. While some swordsmen go for panache and style and technical mastery, i’d always been more of a pragmatist- I figure that every moment that I showboat in a fight is a moment that I could have been not fighting. It’s the screaming Hobgoblin’s failure to realise that simple precept that probably saved Dem'nion, as while he was trying to show off he failed to notice the battle shifting around him. More specifically, he failed to notice Drewan and Izumi coming up behind him. Izumi lashed out with her staff, striking the hobgoblin in the back of the head. He turned towards her then immediately ducked under a swing from Drewan, who’d dropped the bow and drawn a fine steel longsword. Dem'nion fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding I began to move across the room, quickly reaching Karvurk and the leader goblin. I circled around behind him, and as the leader ducked another lightning charged blow I looked for a gap in the Hobgoblin’s defences. There. I struck out with a one-handed thrust, the tip of my sword finding a joint in his armour. The sword impaled it through the thigh, and I followed up with a strike to the back of the head with the pommel of my sword that put him out cold. I turned my attention towards the other melee just in time to see Izumi swing her staff in a wide arc into the remaining Hobgoblin’s skull with a loud crack. It regarded her with a stunned look for a second, before falling down backwards, bleeding from its ears. All up, from the time the goblins had entered the room it had been less than two minutes. We’d gone from methodical explorers to bloodied and in various stages of conciousness. Karvurk pulled out a rope and began restraining the unconscious hobgoblin leader, while I attempted to rouse the northerner from his stone door induced daze. He’d have a hell of a headache, perhaps even one to match Beorn’s, but he’d recover. I saw Izumi and Drewan rush next to Dem'nion, Izumi pouring the healing draught he’d found before down his throat. I heard his breathing stabilise, and the wound in his side stopped bleeding and began to knit. Drewan began to rub the unconscious elf’s stomach “What are you doing?” I asked. Drewan turned to me “I’m waking him up. Isn’t this how you wake elves up?” I regarded him with a look of disbelief for a moment “Have you ever woken an elf up before?” “Well, no, but-” “Watch.” I leaned down and grabbed Dem'nions nose and gave it a hard tug. His eyes snapped open and he cast around for a moment before glaring at me “Where were you, you filthy lowborn, when I was over here getting stabbed!” “Stopping you from being stabbed in the back as well as the front, you tree fornicating mystic. Now get up” Coughing and spluttering, he got up. Karvurk called out from across the room, where he’d lashed the Hobgoblin leader to one of the overturned tables “I think this grakakk has a few questions to answer”