QUEST TO THE KOBOLD CAVES
A Dungeon Adventure
Part Four
Her eyes
fluttered, then opened and she let out a low groan. She was laying on something; it was firm, but
not solid like rock. She put her hands
under her and lifted herself up. She
looked down into the dead face of Gray Dan, shrieked with fright and pushed
herself up onto her haunches.
Padrelle
looked around and saw the sea of spikes around her. Among them, Gray Dan's impaled body floated
like an island. She looked up and saw
the pit she had fallen through, illuminated by the torches in the tunnel
above. Two of the pendulum blades
littered the floor of the pit, one laying flat between the spikes; the other
landed blade-first and stood at a slanted angle.
The Halfling
quickly ran her hands across her chest, stomach, up her arms, and down her
legs. Finding no injuries, she
smiled. "I really am
unkillable!" She looked down at the
dead wizard she was sitting on and patted his cheek thankfully. "If you tell anyone that you saved my
life, I'll deny it!"
With the
utmost care, she climbed down from the wizard's body to the rough cavern
floor. The surrounding spikes stood
roughly as tall as she did, and she was able to walk between them with
ease. Padrelle waded through the forest
of spikes and soon reached an open tunnel.
With a self-satisfied sniff, she straightened her tunic and walked into
the tunnel.
Padrelle
followed the cavern and quickly learned that even this deeper level had lit
torches sticking out of the wall at regular intervals. With this clue she deduced she was still in
the caves used by the kobolds. At this
conclusion, she nodded with satisfaction and set out to find her companions.
She followed
the winding tunnel for a few dozen yards when she came upon an intersecting
tunnel. She now had a choice of three
paths to follow, and in one corner was a tall cylinder of smooth black stone.
The Halfling
harrumphed. "What's up with these
Black Pillars?" She turned to peer
down one tunnel, then realization struck her and her eyes snapped back to the
pillar. She stepped closer and leaned
in.
There was an
arrow, scribbled in chalk, which pointed to the tunnel on the left.
She peered
into the dark tunnel on the left, but could see nothing. The tunnel that went straight and the one to
the right were both lit with torches.
But the one indicated by the arrow was dark. Padrelle released an exasperated sigh.
She climbed
up on a convenient rock and pulled a torch out of the wall. Then, with a deep breath, she turned down the
left tunnel.
She marched
forward only a few dozen feet when she heard the screams from up ahead: "Watch out!" "It's horrible!" "Lookout,
behind you!" "We're surrounded!" "It's got me!"
Padrelle drew a dagger and rushed down the tunnel. It quickly opened into a wide cavern, an
underground lake on the right-hand side.
On the narrow shore she saw seven Elves, dirty and ragged from their own
adventures, all but two of them cowering between a pair of toads that were at
least as large as the wild wolves of the forest. Of the final two Elves, one was being pulled
across the cavern floor by one toad's long tongue, wrapped around his ankle. The last Elf brandished his rapier and hacked
at the sticky lasso in an attempt to free his kinsman.
The toad released its catch, pivoted on the spot and shot its tongue at
the Elf with the sword. The Sword-Elf
dodged and pulled his newly-saved companion to his feet. Meanwhile, the second toad, squatting on the
shore with its back to the Halfling, shot his tongue out at the throng of
cowering Elves, and connected.
Hearing the Elf cry out in alarm, Padrelle raised her dagger and threw
it. The blade buried itself in the
Toad's rump and with a croak of pain, it released its prey. The Toad turned around, glared at the
Halfling with angry eyes. It issued a
threatening croak and its tongue shot
out.
Padrelle was not fast enough to avoid it.
The sticky lash hit her squarely in the chest and pulled her toward
it. She dug her feet into the rocky
floor, but she slid along regardless.
The Toad's wide mouth grew closer, closer, and then all went dark as she
vanished within its maw.
At first she wasn’t sure what had happened, or where she was. It was like being inside a sack of slimy wet
leather. She found it difficult to move
in the restrictive space, but managed to pull out two of her daggers
anyway. She could still hear the muffled
screams of the panicky Elves outside.
Suddenly she had the sensation of being lifted in the air, followed by an
equally sudden jolt. Padrelle looked
around, but could see nothing. The
digestive juices of the Toad's stomach seeped in, and burned at her clothes,
her flesh. With a cry of agony, she
lashed out with her twin blades, clawing over and over in an attempt to forge
an exit.
Without warning, a shaft of silver steel was shoved through the slimy
sack, missing her head by inches.
Padrelle gasped, continued to slice away from the inside as the
needle-thin blade was withdrawn. A
moment later it was thrust in again, from another angle, this time catching the
cloak draped over her shoulder.
"Quit helping me!" she cried and pushed the dagger blade into
the fleshy sack surrounding her. She
leaned on the dagger and the sharp blade forced its way through. Summoning all her strength, she forced the
blade in a downward slice. Suddenly she
found air again as she spilled out onto the cavern floor. The Toad, its belly ripped open from inside,
flopped over to the side, dead. She
looked up into the startled face of the Elf with the rapier. "I'm unkillable!"
The Elf grimaced down at the Halfling in a puddle of gore and blood. "Urk!
That's utterly disgusting!"
The Elf looked up, his eyes wide with alarm. "Lookout!" he cried and kicked the
little Halfling aside.
Padrelle landed in the water with a splash. She scrambled to her feet, grumbling and
spitting out water. "What's the big
idea, ya namby-pamby…where is he?"
The other Elves, cowering against the cave wall, pointed and stammered at
the two dead toads laying side-by-side on the pebbly shore. Padrelle frowned at the two bodies and saw
the humanlike legs sticking out from one corpse.
"Don't just stand there!" Padrelle barked as she waved them
over, "Get him out from under there!
Quickly!"
Spurred to action by her order, the Elves rushed to the body of the giant
toad and rolled it off their warrior.
His hands fell away from his rapier, buried to the hilt in the toad's
blubbery bulk, and he inhaled a deep breath, then let out a content sigh. "What a horrible smell that was,"
he commented as he sat up.
The Halfling chuckled derisively.
"You think they smell bad on the outside?"
The Elf pulled his rapier free from the body and smiled at her. "Ah, hello there, little friend! You are quite welcome!"
Padrelle frowned. "For
what?"
The Elf wiped his rapier against the corpse in an attempt to clean the blood
off his blade. "Why, for saving
your life, of course!"
Padrelle was so flabbergasted that she struggled for a moment to find
words. "You nearly skewered me with
that toadstabber of yours!"
The Elf raised one finger to indicate a noteworthy point: "Ah, nearly,
you say. Therefore I did not."
"You also did not save me;
I cut my own way out of the toad's belly!"
"Ah, but when the other toad leapt at us it would have crushed you
flat," the Elf said as he sheathed his rapier and placed one foot on the
carcass. "It was I who saved you
from that certain death, and got you a bath besides. Egad!
I am magnificent!" He threw his long golden curls over one
shoulder and stared up at a distant corner of the cave ceiling that showed her
his best side.
Padrelle frowned at the Elves with disbelief. "Who are you idiots?"
The Sword-Elf pointed at one of the non-combatants and said, "You,
tell her."
The Elf stepped forward, waved an arm to indicate his fellows. "We are a group of Arcanologists. We've been sent out by the Elvenking to seek
out the long lost Temple
of Magic . For its secrets are great and powerful, and
must be retrieved and guarded against those who would use them for evil."
"Well, what makes you think the Temple of Magic
is down here anywhere?" the Halfling asked.
"We believe the Black Pillars in these caves are the signs that
indicate the path to the Temple .
We have been following them for months,
and delved deep into the dark places in the earth where good Elves were never
meant to go," the Arcanologist explained.
"We have found the path infested with terrible and powerful
monsters, which our group was not strong enough to overcome. Now, we are trying to return to the Greenwood , to the court of
the Elvenking to tell him what we've so far discovered and to raise a larger
force to return with and finish our quest."
"Wait a minute, you're a bunch of scholarly wimps and you didn't
bring along any warrior types for protection?" Padrelle asked
incredulously.
"Of course we did," the Arcanologist patiently explained. "We had several protectors, but they
were not strong enough to defeat the powerful monsters we found deeper in the
caves. For some weeks now we have only
had Gladimenithas to protect us on our return journey. So far, he has kept us all alive, for he is
magnificent!"
"I told you," the Sword-Elf said with a smirk. Then he turned to the Halfling as a thought
occurred to him. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
She sighed as she wondered where to begin.
"My name is Padrelle.
My…devout followers and I were asked to evict a pack of kobolds that
recently moved into these caves."
"Kobolds?" Gladimenithas injected. "There were no kobolds when we entered
the cave complex."
"Well they're here now, and they're devious little boogers, setting
up traps all over the place," the Halfling announced. "Sadly, my clumsy followers have set off
some of these traps. Some of us died,
and the rest got separated, but through my ingenuity and superior skill, I
survived! So if you guys come with me,
we can find the rest of my fellows and we can make sure that you guys get out
to the surface all right! Sound good?"
The Arcanologists all looked to their sole protector to make this
monumentous decision. Gladimenithas
shoved forth a friendly hand to seal the deal with and said, "It is
agreed!" Padrelle took his hand and
the two shook.
* * *
Haldraginor lay on the floor of the cell, and his finger twitched. A muscle spasmed in his arm, another in his
leg. He let out a low groan as the
feeling returned to his body.
Mediphon approached and helped him into a sitting position on the cavern
floor. "Hal, are you all
right?"
The Warrior sat for a moment in contemplation. "I think so."
"Good!" the Cleric cried as he pulled the newly recovered man to
his feet. "We've got real trouble
here! Come and see!"
"We're in a cell, I know!" Haldraginor said as the Cleric walked
him over to the thick wooden bars.
"Yes, but that's not all!" Mediphon told him. He pointed out past the bars. "What do you think locked us up in this
cell?"
"Hobgoblins," Haldraginor answered.
"No, they were hobgob…" the Holy Man paused and frowned at
him. "How did you know?"
The Warrior shrugged. "I was
paralyzed, not unconscious. I could see
and hear everything that went on. I just
couldn't move."
"Oh," Mediphon said with disappointment in his voice.
"Yeah, there are hobgoblins here," Haldraginor said flatly. "They were sent by Ozbaddin, and they've
somehow taken over these kobolds. My
guess is that the hobgoblins are using to kobolds to turn this place into an
outpost, so that they may attack the King's armies from both sides in a classic
pincer movement. It would divide and
weaken the King's forces just as the Aged Ranger feared it would."
"That's still not all!" Mediphon announced. "Did you get a good look at those
hobgoblins?"
"No."
"Well I did. One of them was
all cloaks and bone jewelry," the Holy Man told, "I'm certain he was
some sort of shaman, and a potion maker by the sound of their
conversation."
"I caught that part," the Warrior agreed.
"Yeah, well the other two…" the Cleric stared out at nothing for
a moment. "There was something
wrong about them. They didn't look like
normal hobgoblins."
"Why should they be?" Haldraginor asked derisively. "They certainly weren't normal
kobolds!"
"That's it!" Mediphon exclaimed with a snap of his
fingers. "I was thinking they were
sick in some way, and required the shaman's potions as some form of
medicine… But what if…" He stared off into space again, pulling
thoughtfully at his mustache.
"What if what?" the Warrior demanded.
"What if the shaman was experimenting on the kobolds, to
somehow endow them with magical or supernatural abilities…" He turned to look at his companion, the
gravest of expressions on his face. "And now he's trying to do it to his
fellow hobgoblins."
The Warrior pursed his lips and his brow furrowed as he
contemplated the thought. The Cleric
tugged and twisted his mustache with anxious worry.
"I think we'd better get out of here and find the
others," Haldraginor said as he reached through the bars and fumbled with
the chain that held the door closed. It
was closed with a thick metal lock. The
strong Warrior tugged at the lock, at the chain, but achieved nothing.
"Sadly, I do not think we're going to get out of here
without the key," Mediphon glumly admitted. "The bars are made of that Elvish
ironwood, which as you know, is nigh-unbreakable."
"There must be some way out of here!" Haldraginor
insisted. "This would be such a
sorry ending for the hero of Haven Hills!"
To Be Continued...
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