Tuesday, October 27, 2020

The Adventures of Bradley Brackett

Calling all Terrestrials And Spacefarers!


So, last time I rambled incoherently about Science Fantasy, which I don't think I managed to define very well.  Hey!  I never claimed to be Wikipedia!  The short version is that Science Fantasy is a Fantasy-type story that takes place in some sci-fi (or pseudo-sci-fi) environment.  Once upon a time, they used to be called Planetary Romance stories.  ...I don't know why.

Now, a Planetary Romance or Science Fantasy story that deals with broad, sprawling galactic kingdoms led by evil tyrants who need to be overthrown...these are called Space Operas.

I love Space Opera.  I've always loved Space Opera.  I'll admit that Star Wars probably started my love of Space Opera, but there's more to Space Opera than just Star Wars.  I love the old school, art deco aesthetic of the old Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers serials from the 30's.  I love a lot of really bad sci-fi movies that came out before and after Star Wars.  Not to mention some cheesy comic books, and a lot of classic sci-fi from writers like Edmond Hamilton and Leigh Brackett.

So that brings me back around to writing.  Because as I've said before on this blog, the secret to writing is not to "Write What You Know", but instead to "Write What You Want To Read".  I like cheesy sci-fi fantasy space opera, and so I also write cheesy sci-fi fantasy space opera.

So I came up with Captain Bradley Brackett of the Galactic Patrol.  Bradley Brackett--named after Marion Zimmer Bradley and Leigh Brackett--is a space cop who patrols the Triddian Sector, newly liberated from the strangling grip of the abusive Nilboggi Empire.  Armed with his Zeta-Active Plasma (ZAP) ray gun and his multi-purpose Sonic Sword, he set out to bring the law and order of the Allied Worlds to this galactic frontier.  

The first Bradley Brackett story is called "Beneath Narsalia's Veil".  A dangerous criminal escapes the prison station and Brackett pursues the escapee onto the the prehistoric planet Narsalia.  The heavy and heavily-charged clouds of the planet prohibit communications, and Brackett must face prehistoric alien beasts and cro-magnon lifeforms during the pursuit of his escaped convict, and then still has to find a way to signal the orbiting prison station for a ride off the planet.  

It's good stuff, you should totally check it out.  And I'm not the only one who thought so, because that story was published in an online ezine called Raygun Revival.  Sadly, they have since ceased publishing.  Happily, it was NOT the end of Bradley Brackett's career.

Because another online ezine, Abandoned Towers, approached me about writing a monthly serial based on that short story.  So, the Triddian Sector expanded a little bit...  Bradley Brackett is a cop-on-the-beat, so I gave him a partner to ride with:  Sargent Matthew Ginsberg.  Hey, every hero needs a sidekick.  I am pleased to say that the serial ran for a little over two years with an installment every month, usually with a picture AND an audio version of each monthly episode.  The episodes were short and the story moved slowly but the action was fast.  Alas and alack...Abandoned Towers also ceased publication.


However, while writing the serial, I was inspired to write a novel-length adventure.  I reworked a few of my older ideas, added a few new inspirations, and came up with "The Alphanauts' Legacy".  This takes place sometime after the events in the serial, Brackett is now the head of a growing team of officers, including Sargent Velma Sorenson and Corporal Alvin Gish.  I had a vague idea of transitioning them into a sort of NCIS team or something.  

They're called in to deal with a group of Nilbog bandits, but the adventure quickly grows to include mercenaries, double-dealing merchants, galactic gangsters and a group of fanatical cultists all trying to gain access to a mysterious starship supposedly created by the very first race of beings to achieve space-travel:  the Alphanauts.

The Bradley Brackett series has been on hold for quite a while now, but I've taken to reworking and expanding the idea yet again.  I've incorporated my love of shared worlds, and am working to expand The Adventures of Bradley Brackett into Tales From the Triddian Sector.  
I plan on following the adventures of various groups of heroes, and seeing how their exploits affect one another and the galaxy as a whole.  

But that's a project for the future.  If you'd like to get an early taste of it right now, you can check out Beneath Narsalia's Veil and The Alphanauts' Legacy, both are available for the Kindle right now!

So if you like rip-roaring space adventure, you'll like Bradley Brackett!  Check him out!  I've got about a million other things I need to get done, so I'll talk at you again soon!


Until then, I wish you all...

Good Adventuring!
Timothy A. Sayell

Saturday, October 24, 2020

Quest to the Kobold Caves Part Three




QUEST TO THE KOBOLD CAVES
A Dungeon Adventure


Part Three




Mediphon, tangled in the net, was dragged through the caves like a rabbit in a sack.  It took nearly a score of kobolds, but they pulled him through the tunnels to a wide chamber where a wall of wooden bars was constructed to block the opening of a bubble-like cul-de-sac.  The kobolds gave up; leaving him in the center of the chamber, then returned the way they came, panting for breath as some of them dragged an arm across their brows.  Three human-sized creatures entered from a second tunnel.
The Cleric looked up at them and saw three hobgoblins:  two had mottled orange skin and stringy gray hair, dressed in loose shirts and leather jerkins.  The third had ruddy red-orange skin and long reddish-brown hair cascading from the lizard skull that was the basis of its weird headpiece.  This one wore a poncho and breeches, and many bracelets and necklaces that rattled with the bones of small animals.
The three of them leaned down, their ugly faces regarding him with evil, yellow eyes.  The one in the red jerkin placed his foot on the prisoner and shook him.  "Hey there!  Why you ugly yoomins come here for?"
Mediphon, still in the net and surrounded by monsters, gulped.  "We…we were sent here."
"By your ugly yoomin king?" the one with the lizard skull accused.
"No!  By a ranger!" the Cleric corrected him.  "A…a sort of guardian of the forest."
The one in the yellow jerkin leaned down and snarled at him.  "We know what a ranger is!"
Mediphon gulped.  "Oh, good.  Well, he asked us to come here and make the kobolds go away."
The one in the red jerkin scratched his chin.  "And what of us?" he asked, waving his clawed hand to indicate the three of them.
The Cleric shook his head.  "He said nothing of you.  We all thought that all you hobgoblins were on the other side of the kingdom."
The one in the red jerkin issued a gravelly chuckle that devolved into a wheeze, and slapped the back of one hand against his comrade with the lizard-skull headpiece.  "There, you see, Horkrist?  The yoomins know nothing!  All goes according to the Chief's plan!"
"Hail Ozbaddin!" the one in the yellow jerkin exclaimed.
Horkrist, the one in the lizard-skull headpiece, wiped away the other's distasteful touch and cast a sideways glance at his two comrades.  "Well he knows now," he growled amid the rattle of bones.  "He must not be allowed to leave here, Razzam."
Razzam snorted through his crooked nose.  "He shall not leave."  He looked at the one in the yellow jerkin.  "Korzadub, place him in the cage with the others, and his companion as well!"
The third hobgoblin nodded in obedience, pulled out his sword and opened the net so the prisoner could crawl out.  Mediphon surrendered his flail and raised his arms.  Korzadub corralled him to the wooden bars just as a door was opened for him by Horkrist. 
Within the cul-de-sac he found ten other prisoners, all humans.  He tugged at his mustache with worry and wondered which of his other companions had been captured.  He was surprised when Korzadub picked up the inert body of Haldraginor from a shadowy corner of the chamber.  The monstrous jailers dumped his body in the cage without care, then bolted the door behind them.
The Holy Man stepped up to the bars and stared at the three hobgoblins.  He couldn’t help but notice the lighter color and pallid complexions of the two in the jerkins.  They seemed unhealthy to him, as though suffering from some disease.  Then, he turned to his fallen friend and began to bless his body with the rites of death.
One of the prisoners approached him, placed a hand upon his shoulder.  Mediphon looked up into the face of a middle-aged farmer.  "He is not dead," the man said.  "It is some foul magic, he cannot move at all.  But he is not dead!"
Mediphon stared down at the prone warrior with awestruck eyes.  "You mean…he is merely paralyzed?"
"Call it what you will," the veteran prisoner told him, "But it should wear off."
"But how…" the Cleric's voice trailed off.
The farmer shrugged and pointed at the hobgoblins. "Those two, and a third one like them.  I do not know how they do it."
Mediphon stared at them curiously, new theories percolating in his head.
"Korzadub!"
At the sound of his name, the one in the yellow jerkin turned.  "Yes, Razzam?"
Razzam waved one clawed hand toward the prisoners in the cage.  "These are but two of a larger group, still running loose in our caves.  They must be found and killed.  Take a pack of kobolds and hunt them down!"
Korzadub nodded and saluted in acceptance.  "I shall need more of the potion."
"Of course you will," Horkrist said, his tone flat.  He gave a disinterested gesture toward the second tunnel.  "There is more to be had in my workshop."
Korzadub saluted again, then left.
                                                   *  *  *
Pamblyn wandered the tunnels alone.  She paused, leaned against the rock wall and pulled her helmet from her head.  Straining her ears, she could not hear anything to suggest the kobolds still pursued her.  She was confident that she had lost them. 
With one hand, she pulled a handkerchief from a pouch on her belt and dragged it over her forehead.  She exchanged it for a skin of water, which she held up to her lips and drank from as she accessed the situation.
By her reckoning, it was pretty bad.
True she'd lost the kobolds, but she also lost Mediphon, and the rest of her party as well.  She had witnessed the sudden deaths of Gray Dan and Haldraginor, and had no clue as to the well-being of her remaining companions.  The chances of completing the quest dropped significantly with the dwindling of the party.  She wasn't sure what to do, and desperately wanted a sign.
And then she saw it.  Down the tunnel, amid the flickering light of yet another torch was another Black Pillar. 
With a curious frown, Pamblyn turned and walked toward it, helmet cradled in her arm.  She returned her waterskin as she approached, and ran her hand along the smooth black stone.  With this cursory inspection, she surmised it was identical to the one the party had found earlier:  a simple column which bore no writing, no symbols.  The incongruity of its location was a mystery she was unable to fathom.  
Pamblyn heard the faint clang of metal-on-metal.  Straining her ears, she turned her attention down the ongoing tunnel.  There were grunts and barks, thuds and clangs.  They were the sounds of battle.
As if awaking from a trance, she turned away from the Black Pillar and started down the tunnel.  She took a single step and a spear erupted from the rocky wall beside the Pillar.  Pamblyn jumped at the sudden movement, and let loose a brief startled cry as the spear slammed against the shield she carried.
"Damn kobolds," she muttered as she grabbed the shaft of the spear.  She pulled, but it would not come out of the wall.  She pushed and felt some tension behind the spear, when she released her grip, it sprang forward again. 
She gave the surrounding cave a fleeting glance as she pulled the helmet back onto her head.  Spying no other traps, she rushed down the cavern and turned a corner, sword in hand.
"Kill the Elf!" the orange-red kobold commander ordered; his back to the human warrioress.  Beyond him, six rust-red kobolds charged at Sunthorn with their long knives and short maces.  The Elf parried, dodged, and danced around the midget monsters, deftly deflecting their bevy of blows.
Pamblyn seized the opportunity for a surprise attack of her own and crept up behind the orange-red kobold.  She raised her sword high for the killing blow when a sudden alarm was called out by one of Sunthorn's attackers:  "Watch out, Korzadub!"
The kobold leader side-stepped and Pamblyn's sword came crashing down, the blade biting into the cavern floor.  "Die yoomin!" Korzadub cried and reached out with his bare, scaly hand.
Pamblyn remembered the mysterious killing touch that Haldraginor suffered at the hands of the previous orange kobold, Drang.  With a backhand swing, she slapped the monster's hand away with her sturdy shield.  Korzadub yelped in pain and jumped away.
Sunthorn called out in distress, and Pamblyn charged the throng surrounding him.  A swing of her blade, a swipe with his scimitar, and kobolds fell to the cavern floor. 
"Quick!  This way!" Pamblyn ordered and raced back down the cavern from whence she came.  The Elf slammed his leaf-shaped shield against one canine head and followed her.
"After them, you dogs!" Korzadub bellowed, "Don't let them escape!"  His three remaining kobolds ran in pursuit, and he ran behind them.
Pamblyn ran back to the Black Pillar and screeched to a halt.  Sunthorn turned and leveled his scimitar at the onrushing kobolds.  A few quick swings with their flashing blades and the kobolds were dead.  Korzadub, madness glowing in his eyes, jumped over the kobold corpses and grabbed Pamblyn's shield.
The warrior woman shrieked in surprise, turned toward the spear that still jutted out from the rock wall and charged.  Korzadub jerked as he was skewered, a cry of pain only gurgled in his throat.  Pamblyn pulled away from him and he fell off her shield with no resistance, and landed on his feet.  He looked down at the head of the spear thrust through his torso, looked up at the pair of adventurers, then his body slumped with death.
The Elf and the Warrioress both sighed in relief.  They leaned against the cavern wall, and stared at the impaled kobold and the Black Pillar beside it as they regained their breath.
"It is good to see you," Sunthorn said at last.  "I feared the worst for all of you."
"Likewise," Pamblyn replied.  "I lost Mediphon in the caves; I fear he may have been captured."
The Elf nodded gravely.  "I lost Padrelle in the pit.  It seems she will torment Gray Dan for all eternity."
The Warrioress harrumphed.  "So much for being unkillable."  Then they both stared in muted wonder as a light flashed by Korzadub's doglike head.
A spark appeared in the air above the impaled kobold's shoulder.  Sparks burst in the thin air, obscuring the corpse with flashes of light and brief clouds of smoke.  Little burning embers appeared from nowhere, flew from the body, fell away and burned out before reaching the ground.  Streams of smoke marked the path of each spark, and quickly dissipated.  Then the brief spectacle was finished, the kobold body was gone, the larger corpse of a man-sized monster was impaled on the spear in its place.
"He's not a kobold at all!" Pamblyn exclaimed, "He's a hobgoblin!"
Sunthorn regarded the new body with one raised eyebrow.  "A rather sickly-looking hobgoblin.  His skin has a pallor, it should be a darker red, and his hair is gray.  There is something…wrong with this hobgoblin."
"But these are supposed to be kobolds, what was he doing here?" Pamblyn asked as she approached the body for a closer inspection.
"Don't you mean 'what are they doing here'?" Sunthorn asked.
Pamblyn's face snapped toward him and she stared for a moment with a puzzled expression.  Then realization exploded on her face.  "The other orange kobold!  Drang!  How many more of them are there?  What are they doing here?"
Sunthorn rubbed his chin.  "Perhaps they were driven out," he suggested.  "They could be infected, or diseased, or cursed…then driven out of Ozbaddin's horde.  And now they've taken over this pack of kobolds."
Pamblyn let out a thoughtful hum as she considered the theory.  "We need to know for sure," she said, "I wonder if he has any clues on him."  With a grimace on her face, she proceeded to check the pockets in the yellow jerkin and the pouches on Korzadub's belt.  She found a handful of silver and copper coins, a flint and stone used to light campfires and torches, a partially eaten rat, and two earthenware vials.  She pulled out the stopper of one vial and took an exploratory sniff.
"Healing potion?" Sunthorn asked.
The Warrioress shook her head.  "It doesn't smell like a healing potion to me."  She passed the vial to the Elf and pulled the stopper from the remaining vial.
Sunthorn sniffed at the bottle.  "I'm not sure," he said, "but it may be a polymorph potion.  This could be what gives them the shape of kobolds."
Pamblyn took another whiff and sneered in distaste.  "I suppose there's only one way to know for sure?"
The Elf nodded.  "To drink them, yes."
Pamblyn sighed.  "Well, it will certainly be easier to travel the cave-complex if we aren't attacked every few feet…and we may learn what happened to the others."
Sunthorn nodded in agreement and held his vial up as though proposing a toast.  "Shall we, then?"
Pamblyn clinked her vial against his, then they both drank.  Each of them was engulfed in sparks and smoke.  Once the magic had taken effect, they looked at one another's canine snouts and horned heads.  Then they looked down at their own scaly, clawed hands.  Pamblyn gasped with amazement.  "It worked!"
Sunthorn raised one eyebrow on his now-canine head.  "Indeed," he said, "Let's go see what we can see."

To Be Continued...



Tuesday, October 13, 2020

A Poor Introduction to Science Fantasy

 Hailing all Travelers And Spacefarers!

This is The Adventure Site calling, do you copy?


In case you haven't realized yet, today we're going to talk about Science Fantasy!  

Why Science Fantasy?  Well, first of all, it's a long standing and beloved sub-genre of Science Fiction.  And second, well, it's my blog and i feel like talking about it, and those are good enough reasons for me!

So, what makes a Science Fantasy story different from a Science Fiction story?  Well, for starters, in Science Fiction there is aeffort to make the science sound plausible.  It's based on real-world principles, and often speculates on future advancements based on current theories.  Contrariwise, Science Fantasy concentrates on the story, usually an adventure story, and the outlandish technology is not scientifically explained.  Basically, the way a High Fantasy story treats Magic, that's how a Science Fantasy story treats the Science.


Arguments can be made about just how far back Science Fantasy goes, but they certainly gained popularity in the Pulps.  As more of our own world was being mapped and recorded, leaving fewer places of mystery (and fewer places for the Monster to Be At), adventure writers moved their jungles to Venus, their deserts to Mars, and replaced their natives with weird aliens.  

But the stories were essentially the same:  daring men and women fought against overwhelming odds to save ancient relics, or some benevolent kingdom, or maybe just their own lives!  And all this with a weird exotic atmosphere akin to but at the same time different from the adventure stories that take place in the foreign countries of our own little planet.  

The main idea here is wild, exciting, two-fisted adventure!  And it wasn't just limited to magazines either.  You name a medium, and you can find some form of Science Fantasy.  Books, comic books, novels, movies (& movie serials), TV shows, cartoons, web comics!  I tell ya, it's everywhere!

There are other related terms, like Planetary Romance, Space Opera, and even Sword-and-Planet.  There is some overlap in these terms, but they each have specific differences.  Space Opera, for example, usually has its story set out in space, with adventures spanning several planets.  Sword-and-Planet, on the other hand, is usually about a person from our own Earth who is transported to another planet where they have adventures among the decaying remnants of some decadent space-kingdom.  It is, quite literally, a Sword-and-Sorcery adventure on another planet.

It seems to me that all of the biggest and most popular "Sci-Fi" franchises have some element of Fantasy to them.  Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Gallactica, Babylon 5, Red Dwarf, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy...  All these and more can be classified as Science Fantasy.  But I'm sure that you all ready knew that.

Ok, you caught me!  I was really just building up to something else, but I ended up with a blog post all ready!  So, I guess I'll save it for now, and use it next time to build up on this foundation!  

Until then, I wish you all...

Good Adventuring!
Timothy A. Sayell

Saturday, October 10, 2020

Quest to the Kobold Caves Part Two




QUEST TO THE KOBOLD CAVES
A Dungeon Adventure


Part Two



Unable to decipher the mystery of the Black Pillar, the stalwart party continued down the main tunnel.  The road they followed weaved back-and-forth like a drunken tavern-goer, and before long they could not see the Pillar when they looked back.  Then they came upon a strange stone outcropping.
It was about two feet square and stuck out from the wall like a drawer that was half-pulled out.  The rock was about two-and-a-half feet above the floor with a burning torch stuck in the wall above it.  On its top were a series of small colored crystals, arranged in even rows around a round clear crystal at the center that was easily as large as an apple. The cavern continued on another twenty yards before sharply turning to the right.
Without hesitation, Padrelle bounded up to the rocky console—sized perfectly for her—and looked over the wide assortment of crystals.  Blue, green, red, and yellow stones glistened in the dancing torchlight. 
"Oooh!  Check out that baby!" she cooed as she drew a dagger from beneath her cloak.  A quick flick of her wrist and the blade jabbed into the stone shelf, lodged under the great clear crystal in the center.  With the tiniest bit of leverage, the crystal popped out with ease.
Then, somewhere behind the rock wall, a pop sounded.  It was followed by a twang, and then a groan, and a series of clacks as though some ancient machine was reluctantly brought to life and set about its work. 
Then a long wooden arm slid out from a crack in the rocky wall.  It was suspended somewhere above the ceiling and swung across the width of the tunnel.  Behind it, another pendulum swung in the opposite direction.  Beyond that, was another, and another, spaced a few feet apart for the next fifteen yards.  They swung back and forth incessantly, obviously powered by the unseen, complaining mechanism.
The Wizard's face contorted with a scowl and thumped Padrelle on the head then pulled the crystal from her hands.  "Foolish Halfling!  Are you going to set off every trap that we come across?"  He pushed the stammering Halfling aside and pushed the round crystal back in place, but the bladed pendulums continued.
With a perplexed frown, Gray Dan scowled down at the crystals.  "Perhaps when Padrelle removed the large crystal it somehow disturbed the smaller ones…"  He reached out with two fingers and experimentally tapped a yellow crystal.  It glowed at his touch, then died when he pulled his hand away.  He tried one of each remaining color: red, green, and blue.  Each one glowed when he pressed his fingertips against them, then went dark when he ceased contact.
"Wait a minute!" Mediphon cried, one shaky finger pointing at the pendulum blades.  "I think they've slowed down."  The blades swung across the cavern and he started to count the seconds.  "One, two, three, four…" The blades swung again. 
"You're right!" Sunthorn agreed, "They were swinging faster than that when they first started."
"Too bad we didn't bring a Thief with us, to disarm all these dastardly traps," Haldraginor sighed.  "Even the hero of Haven Hills can't do that."

"We don't need a Thief," the Wizard said in an indignant tone.  He held his chin as he considered the console of jewels.  "Obviously, this crystal table controls the pendulum trap; we simply need someone clever to decipher how it works."

Padrelle gasped.  "We're doomed!"

Gray Dan scowled at her.  "Thank you for your confidence," he snarled.  Then he reached out for the crystals one more.  He lashed out at the crystals in a short sequence that appeared to do nothing.  A second sequence, longer than the last, caused the blades to swing more rapidly.  As his companions groaned behind him, the Wizard sneered and tried a six-color sequence.
As he pulled his fingers from the sixth stone, the blades swung into the side-walls of the tunnel and did not return.  Gray Dan stood and wiped his hands with a smug grin as the Cleric clapped him on the shoulder and exclaimed, "Well done!"
"I know," the Wizard said as he pulled away from the Holy Man's grasp.  He started down the cavern, spread his arms wide.  "Sooner or later, you will all learn that Gray Dan is always right!  Now lets g-o-o-oh!"
The cavern floor crumbled away beneath the Wizard's foot, and grew into a wide, deep pit that stretched from wall to wall for fifteen yards.  As for Gray Dan, he quickly vanished into the pit itself, and his fearful cry lasted for only a few moments before it was abruptly cut off.
The remaining five heroes stepped forward and peered down into the impassable pit.  The darkness prevented them from seeing anything.  With a shrug, Mediphon tossed his torch into the middle of the pit.  It was easily twenty feet deep, and the Wizard's body seemed to float just above the pit floor, held aloft by nearly a dozen of the needle-thin spikes that covered the bottom.  They stared down at his corpse in an awkward silence.
Without looking away from the body in the pit, Pamblyn asked, "You…uh…don't happen to have a resurrection spell handy, do ya?"
The Holy Man pulled at his blonde mustache.  "No, I'm not powerful enough to be granted such strong magic yet."  The Warrioress nodded and harrumphed in response.
Suddenly Haldraginor clapped his hands together and smiled at his surrounding companions.  "Well!" he exclaimed, "What do you say we go check out that side tunnel back at the pillar?" 
With a disjointed murmur of agreement, they started back up the cavern from whence they came.  Only the Cleric paused, staring down into the pit.  He waved his hand in the air, drawing a solemn sign over the corpse.  "Rest now," Mediphon said, "We may yet find some means of restoring you to life.  You just wait here.  …Um." He paused as though realizing what he just said.  Then he shrugged and rushed to catch up to his comrades.
*  *  *
They quickly backtracked to the Black Pillar and ventured down the side tunnel.  After the wider main cavern, this fissure seemed narrow.  Two of the humans could have walked down it side-by-side if they were pressed together, and still their shoulders would scrape against he rocky walls.  The floor was jagged and broken into tiers, slowly descending deeper into the ground.  Finally the steps ceased and the fissure widened into a wide, tall cave with ledges running along the walls just above the humans' heads.  But it was well-lit with several torches jutting from the rocky walls on both levels.  The far end of the cave had two tunnels branching off at opposite angles, giving the cavern a distorted Y-shape. 
They walked into the cavern, straining—and failing—to see up on the ledges.  With cautious strides and wary eyes they advanced to the center of the three-way intersection.
A short creature jumped to the edge of a rocky outcropping on the right-hand side of the cavern.  All of two-and-half feet tall, the scrawny human-shaped thing had a dog-like face with short horns on its head and its scaly skin was orange-red.  Its eyes glowing with hate, it pointed an accusatory clawed digit at the heroes and barked:  "Kill the invaders from the surface!  Take one of them alive for the experiments!  So Drang commands!"
As the order reverberated in the cavern, the ledges suddenly filled with similar little dog-men.  The foul little beasts had rough scaly hides that were rusty brown, clad in bright but ragged clothing.  Their canine snouts baring their sharp teeth, they hurled rocks at the trespassers in the lower tier of the cavern.
Sunthorn and Pamblyn raised their shields against the hail of stones.  The others tried to cover their heads with their arms.  A blood-chilling battle howl erupted from the tunnel at the right fork as a wave of kobolds charged in brandishing long daggers and short spears. 
Haldraginor saw the onrushing pack of kobolds and grinned.  "Ha-haa!" he cried, "At last!  This is what we've come for!"
"What?  To get pummeled in an ambush?" Pamblyn asked as stones bounced off her shield.
Heedless of the raining rocks, Haldraginor brought his sword around.  "Have no fear, my friends!  Remember, they're only kobolds!"  Issuing a battle cry of his own, he waded into the oncoming wave of kobold soldiers.  Pamblyn followed him, her gleaming sword in hand. 
The two fighters whipped their swords in strong, slashing arcs that snapped the kobolds' tiny spears, knocked their dagger-blades aside, and sliced into their tender flesh.  The kobolds pressed onward, relentless as the sea.  They struck at the human foes with their weapons, their claws.  Some of them got past the two warriors and charged the stragglers, still suffering in a rain of stones.
Sunthorn brought his shield around, and the kobolds slammed into him.  Surprised at their collective strength, he struggled to keep them from advancing.
On the ledge, the squad leader, Drang, sneered at the battle below.  He turned to a group of kobolds behind him and waved them forward as he barked, "Bring the net!" At his command, the four each grabbed a corner of a net and leapt off the ledge toward the Holy Man and the Halfling.
Padrelle pointed up at them, the net opening wide to engulf them.  "Look out!"
Mediphon looked skyward.  "Good God!" he exclaimed and lashed out with his flail.  The chain stretched to its length and the studded metal ball at the end caught the net and swept it aside, throwing it and its kobold carriers crashing into the rocky wall.
Drang slapped his own forehead in disbelief.  "Useless kobolds!" he snarled.  He glared down at the battle and saw the two warriors, the bodies of a half-dozen kobolds at their feet.  A growl started low in his throat, but it quickly matured into a scream as he leapt from the ledge.  He landed on Haldraginor—the nearer of the two human warriors—clambered gracelessly up his travelling pack and pulled at the man's helmet.
Haldraginor's winged helm clattered on the cave floor and Drang grabbed a clawful of the man's hair, pulled his head back.  "Prepare to die now, human!"  Then he pressed his free hand onto the warriors face.   With a gasp of breath, Haldraginor felt the heavy weight of the sword, of his arms, of his legs.  He fell to the cavern floor with a clatter and a clang.
The kobolds paused in their onslaught and Pamblyn cried out "Hal!", but the fallen warrior gave no response.
"What's happened?" the Halfling asked.
Sunthorn, still holding up his shield, looked over his shoulder at her and the Cleric.  "Hal's down!"
"What, how?" Mediphon asked as he pushed his way past the Elf.  He saw the Warrior's body lying still on the earthen floor.  "By the Bright Beams of the Sun!  What magic is this?"
"This one did it!" Pamblyn yelled as she brought her sword down in a great cleaving motion. 
Drang jumped back from her onrushing blade.  He landed a few feet away and smiled smugly at her.  Suddenly the metal ball of the Holy Man's flail knocked him off his feet.  He jumped up from the rocky floor, lifted his hand to issue a command, and the Elf's strong shield slammed him against he cavern wall. 
Sunthorn pressed against him with all the might he could muster.  Despite the Elf's efforts to crush him between the shield and the wall, Drang somehow managed to bark out another desperate order:  "Kobolds…attack!  Kill…them all!"
The kobolds barked and howled at their leader's command.  They leapt down from the ledges with weapons in their clawed hands.  Kobold after kobold jumped down to join the battle, their numbers seemed endless.
"Ye Gods!" Mediphon exclaimed, "If they all have that power…we're done for!"
"Quick!  Retreat and regroup!" Pamblyn ordered as she grabbed the Cleric's arm and started down the left-hand fork of the Y-shaped intersection. 
The Elf gawked at the continuous stream of kobold warriors coming down into the tunnel.  Suddenly he felt small hands pulling at him.  "Sunthorn, quick!  This way!" Padrelle pleaded as she pulled him back toward the fissure, the way they had come.
Sunthorn looked down at her, took one tentative step toward her and felt the tiny claws that reached over his shield to grasp his forearm.  He looked back into the doglike face of the orange-skinned kobold, Drang.  "Prepare to die, Elf!"
With a shriek of panic, Sunthorn slammed the kobold against the wall and its grip on him was lost.  The Halfling pulled him back the way they had come and the orange kobold fell to the floor.
Pamblyn charged down the tunnel, the Cleric following in her wake.  "Where are we going?" he cried.
"Away from here!" she huffed in response, "Then we'll have to find a way back to the others!  One of these side-tunnels ought to do it!"
Mediphon heard the growls and barks of their pursuers.  He paused and glanced over his shoulder just as Pamblyn darted down a side branch urging him to follow.  "Right behind you!" he assured her, as he turned around and charged forward with a sudden burst of energy.  "Where did you go?"
He received no answer, but quickly stumbled over a tripwire.  To his credit, he did not fall, but a sturdy rope net did.  Weighted with rocks, it fell from the tunnel ceiling and tangled around him as he struggled to continue his retreat.  But there was no escape, and the kobolds were soon upon him.
*  *  *
Padrelle and Sunthorn raced back up the natural steps in the fissure and up the side branch toward the cavern that led to the surface.  The Elf frowned and he asked, "Where are we going?"
"Outside!" the Halfling answered.
"We can't do that!" Sunthorn argued.  "These foul kobolds have taken down two of our comrades already!  We must complete the quest, to avenge the fallen!"
"No kidding?" Padrelle replied, her tone incredulous.  "Well to do that, we're going to need some help, and I don't think we're going to find any here in the kobold caves, do you?"  Then she cried in alarm and fell face-first on the tunnel floor.
Sunthorn paused long enough to pluck her up and place her back on her hairy feet.  "Be careful, you clumsy Halfling!"
She frowned up at him and barked, "It's not my fault that I tripped!"
"You didn't set off another trap, did you?"  His tone was accusatory as his keen eyes darted around the tunnel for some new sign of danger.
Padrelle heard their kobold pursuers growing louder and grinned up at the Elf.  "I sure hope so!  Whatever it is, it might slow them up!  Come on!"
The pair continued on and soon found themselves back at the Black Pillar.  A left turn soon revealed a wide net covering the cavern that led to the outside world. 
The Elf stared at the barrier with disbelief in his eyes.  "We haven't time to cut through this!  They'll be upon us!" He glared down at his companion.  "Who's side are you on, Halfling?"
Padrelle snapped her fingers, started back down the cavern waving Sunthorn to follow.  "We're not licked yet.  I got an idea, come on!"
The two ran down the cavern and quickly arrived at the edge of the pit.  Padrelle rushed to the console of crystals and drew her dagger as the Elf looked on in despair.
"Perfect," Sunthorn lamented, "Instead of an impassable net, we have an impassable pit."
"Uh-uh, not impassable," the Halfling said.  The large central crystal popped out of its socket and the swinging blades once again began their ceaseless swinging.  "And there's our way across!"
Sunthorn watched the blades swing one way, then back.  He glanced down at Padrelle with one eyebrow raised in doubt.  "You're mad."
"Will you just go!" the Halfling yelled.
"Why am I going first?  It was your idea!"
"Because I know I'm going to make it, I'm unkillable," Padrelle said matter-of-factly.  "But if you can't make it, this way I can save you as I go across, instead of having to come back for you.  Now go!"
"You're mad!" the Elf repeated.  The sounds of the approaching kobolds were growing louder behind them.  The Elf shrugged and said, "I must be mad, too."
He slung his shield onto his back and loosened up.  Then ran forward, jumped, and landed on the first swinging blade.  He held on to the shaft and was fast approaching the side wall.  Suddenly, the next blade emerged from the wall and he jumped to it.  With the supernatural grace and agility of his people, Sunthorn swiftly bounded from pendulum to pendulum and soon found himself on the far lip of the pit.
Padrelle watched him with awe.  "I'll be damned," she muttered beneath her breath.  "It actually worked!"
Drang's gravelly voice issued up the tunnel:  "There they are!  Get them!"
Padrelle let out a heavy breath, then ran forth and leapt.  To her own amazement, she landed on the swinging blade and scrambled for a hold of the shaft.  She leapt for the second blade just as the kobolds approached the pit. 
"They will not escape us!" Drang vowed as he approached the console. 
Padrelle jumped for the next blade and Sunthorn urged her on.  Drang pressed a series of crystals on the console, and each one glowed at his touch.  Then the first pendulum fell out of the ceiling and clattered into the pit. 
Wide eyed, the Halfling leapt for the next blade.  Drang's fingers danced across the crystals and the blade beyond Padrelle fell into the pit.  She eyed the gap to the next available blade, now twice as far, and was unsure she could make such a leap.  With no time to reconsider, she jumped back to the third blade. 
Drang finished another sequence and looked up at the acrobatic Halfling.  The blade Padrelle was riding fell away from the ceiling.  Padrelle jumped for the second blade, missed, and fell into the dark pit.
"No!" Sunthorn cried out in grief and frustration.  The Elf glared across the wide pit into Drang's cold eyes, the kobold grinned hungrily in response.  Sunthorn took one last mournful look into the dark pit, then turned and ventured around the corner.


To Be Continued...


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