Talia screams, a scream of pure anger and rage, her eyes locked with chief as she does so, while she adopts a defensive dueling stance.
For a moment, the battle shifts out of Naralesh's view, and he frantically eyes the rope spanning it, debating risking a crossing despite his weakened state. A cluster of mites scurries into view soon after, though, and he quickly takes aim at the closest among them.
His aim is poor, though. He fervently hopes Dregan's arrows find their marks.
The little kobold kept at it, trying to make his way up the slope. This is definitely not his day. He makes a little progress, and ends up getting stuck again trying to follow the handholds of a much larger dwarf.
Cursing Dregan runs back to his bow and drops his axe and rope to pick up the bow again.
Magna gets her axe and screams at the small evil creatures.
"Leave her alone!"
She attacks the one in diagonal from her. If she drops it she will take a 5' step on his position.
Gavriil steps up and skewers a mite on his blade. Magna slaughters another. The rest of the mites including the chief look with wide eyes at Talia, clearly questioning the wisdom of attacking her. Their next stabs are half-hearted, and so, ineffective.
Talia turns her fury solely to the chief, squaring off into an offensive stance, and bringing her sword down in a quick slash, along with a hate-filled yell. Sadly, the noblewoman telegraphs the thrust too much and too early, and the chieftain easily steps aside, leaving Talia slashing the air, her scream of hate turning to frustration.
Dregan will try to shoot the mite in front of Magna so she can go help Talia.
"Good work Magna, Talia needs you"
Magna mentally thanks Dregan, and, if able, charges against the mite chief.
"Torag!"
The little kobold struggles in vain to climb the wall. He starts letting out little growls of frustration. He slips with one of his claws and tumbles all the way back to the bottom. He looks around to see if anyone is watching anymore, and then he pounds the ground with his tail and foot in frustration.
Naralesh continues his arrow fire, but is unable to contribute more than a feeble shot.
Magna's axe catches the chief just enough, and she smashes the creature down into the hard-packed dirt floor. He doesn't get up. the last mite screams and flees back into the cave, dropping its dagger in the rush to escape.
Talia collapses to the ground for few moments, before wearily picking herself up and gathering her scattered spell components. Then, with a trembling hand, the playwright draws her wand and expends a charge to seal her various wounds, cuts and scrapes, and waits for the others to climb up out of the chasm or cross it. While she waits, Talia casts a minor spell to remove the dirt and blood from her clothing and skin. It is not a proper bath, but it will have to do.
"Thank you," she says to everyone, her voice still shaky.
"Right" Dregan say putting down his bow and throwing the rope down to Kaalib. "yah can climb up dis side now or wai' until I climb across an' climb up tha uther side."
Magna covers the entrance where the mite escape, but don't follow, only stands guard, so her friends can't be attacked.
"See to Talia! Help her!"
The kobold tried to look strong in the midst of his predicament, but he slowly nodded at Dregan's offer for help. "The other side would be preferable, my good man as I am assuming that you are proceeding in that direction. I am grateful for your offer of assistance. My captivity seems to have left me weaker than I expected." He takes the rope and ties it around his middle before gripping it tightly with both claws and preparing to climb the opposing slope.
Talia draws her scorpion whip and waits for the others to get across the chasm before heading on. "We've killed the chief, routing the rest shouldn't be an issue... I hope."
The playwright intends to stay to the back this time, and let the others forge ahead.
Naralesh gratefully accepts Talia's aid in climbing across . Once on the other side, it becomes clear how drained his magic has made him - his eyes are bloodshot and his face is haggard from exertion. "I am able to continue onward, but I warn you - my magic is all but spent. Let us be wary if we press on into the depths, but I feel that we have them on the run."
Dregan will unstring his bow, climb carefully acroos (taking 10) then pull up the kobold up. Before restring the bow and going to Magna. "I'll guard 'ere for a bit, The elf wants your 'elp."
Magna nods to Dregan and uses her last Lay on Hands with the Fatigued Mercy on Naralesh.
"May the strength of Torag bless you!"
She moves to Talia.
"Are you ok? You got me worried for a minute there!"
Naralesh seems to surge with energy as Magna's touch revitalizes him. Hunched over a moment before, he leaps to his feet. "That was some blessing!" he exclaims, grabbing his bow eagerly. "Many thanks, Magna. Torag certainly smiles on you."
"On us all, my friend. Now let's finish to get rid of those creatures."
With Dregan's help, climbing the wall became a breeze. Not to mention that the man practically bulged with muscles in every place. He could have pulled a score of kobolds out of that pit without breaking a sweat. Kaalib was thankful, but still a bit cross, mostly at himself. He was racking up debts, and had no opportunity to do his part. On top of that, he was bloody and swaying a little from all the exertion after not having much of anything to eat and being afraid for his life for several days.
He sort of slunk against the wall for a moment as he regained his strength and slipped off the rope. Luckily no one was really paying attention to him, smiling and enjoying their heathen god's blessing whoever he was. He might be able to slip out of their company completely unnoticed, but there was a statue he had to retrieve.
The kobold looked around the room for a moment, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ticket back into the clan and the instrument of his reintegration.
Rows of wooden pegs line the earthen walls, some hung with tiny, filthy cloaks. In the center of the room stands a rickety table held together with twine, covered with a filthy redchecked tablecloth and heaped with mounds of dirt and twigs and gravel, apparently arranged to form some sort of map. Sitting at the edge of the map, weighing down a scrap of paper, is a bloodstained ivory statuette of what looks like a crouching reptilian devil. A bulging burlap sack sits under the table.
"Are you ok? You got me worried for a minute there!"
Talia smiles, a little color coming back to her cheeks. "I had me worried too. That was quite scary for a few moments - thank you for finishing the chief and sending the rest running."
Still bruised and sore, the playwright stretches and tests her body finding it painful to stand straight up, as if the skin around where the tick gored her was being stretched and burned. Instead, she hobbles over the to the chief and checks his body, examining the hatchet and searching the creature for any other items. Then Talia makes her way over to the table, noting the statue, but her attention is immediately grabbed by the burlap sack, which the noblewoman promptly peeks into.
"Hey Kaalib, this your statue?"
Magna returns to keep watch if the Mites return.
Naralesh approaches the table and examines the map.
"Not much of a map, but it seems to show the region surrounding this lair. These bushes seem to represent the tree up above. I wonder... this pile of rocks... perhaps a cavern? It should be simple enough to find from here." He turns to the kobold. "Kaalib, you know this area. Do you know what landmark lies in this direction?"
Having looked at the map, the elf takes the time to scan the statue and sack with detect magic.
Dregan nods at Magna's return. "I'll just be a moment" He says going to collect any intact arrows, and heads from the broken ones. He then works through the intact arrows test each for hidden flaws. Satisfied he glances at the others. "We probably shouldn't linger too long"
The kobold looked up at the fire headed lady, and nodded. "If I take it back to my chief, he will let me stay, and possibly I can help my people from that point on." The little dragon seemed a bit nervous, as if he wasn't really sure if they'd really help him with this.
Concerning the map, Kaalib spoke to the peaceful elf. "That doesn't look like a map to me. Mites are too stupid to make maps anyhow. They can't even make their own clothes."
"It's a map or it's not a map either way shouldn't take long t' check. Lets get moving, Magna If yew wan' t' lead I'll cover you, be careful ov 'oles in tha ground."
The statue and the sack are non-magical. The sack contains the mite's treasure: 193 cp, 120 sp, and 32gp.
The paper weighed down by the statuette is an accounting of the status of the war, as defined by key pieces of stolen treasure.
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Slinging the sack around her shoulder, Talia sets off down the hallway, following Magna and Dregan, nodding her head at Kaalib to follow. "We'll take the statue to your people. And, once we clear these mites from this nest, your chief should be very happy. I'm sure he - or she - will welcome you back with a toothy smile and a rousing game of rat-stick. Your people play rat-stick, right?"
Kaalib shook his head at Talia, not really sure what she was trying to say. "Rat-stick sounds like something you eat, or an unexpected weapon. You people are incomprehensible to me even today, even after living among you for as long a period as I have"
He followed her toward the other room, the two of them injured and bleeding. "I may not be received back with smiles. You may be fairly uneducated in kobold politics, but they are not so complex. I'm sure you'll see what I mean when we get there, provided I'm not dead by then."
It was difficult to say what exactly they were to do, but he didn't think he could take more than one or two of them out if they decided to attack him. Less, if they did so when he was sleeping. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but it was the only one that kept him alive for the time being, and one that had fairly steep challenges left to him.
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Talia shrugged. Apparently not every gangle of kobolds played rat-stick, a simple game with three components; a rat, a stick, and willing players. It seemed the playwright needed to write her old anthropology professor a sternly worded corrective.
"My apologies. I'm sure you'll be received well, as you'll have the statue with you. Stay to the back. Let our warriors keep our enemies from you, and you'll live. Don't follow my lead, that's for sure."
Gavriil breathes rapidly as the fight winds down. "Well... That was interesting..." He whipes his blade off and reaches into his backpack to fish out the option that he's been carrying for what seems like forever.
He tosses the potion casually to Talia and says, "Drink up. Someone has to write about all of my great deeds and I don't think that old Dregan even knows what pen and ink are!" He shoots a grin at Stefan. That should be enough to get back at him for telling at them during the fight.
He gives a quick stretch and says to Kalib, "Maybe let the bird do the talking? It seems like it knows how to talk to savages a little better than you do... "
Talia tosses the potion back to Gavriil. "Don't worry about it. I'm healthy enough to get out of here alive."
Turning to Kaalib, the playwright rolls her eyes. "And please, don't let the bird talk."
Magna changes the group stance to "Lookout", and starts down the tunnel.
Kaalib shook his head. "Orsheval is more knowledgeable than I am on certain things, but I don't think I should let him out just now as he's been a bit naughty lately. Threatening to leave and let me die is simply uncouth, and I will not condone it."
He took personal inventory of his own wounds, but left it as it was for now. Piling on more debt was not something he liked to do, but he was actually in pretty good shape for having been tortured for several days. He didn't know really how long, but it seemed like an eternity. "I am ready to proceed as well, providing the rest of you are also ready."
"I am ready to move on. Hopefully there's not many left, though." Naralesh turns to Kaalib. "What magics do you have available? I expended much of my day's power getting to this point."
Dregan considers correcting Gravriil, but maybe he was right and getting paper and ink wrong would only make him look the fool, better to keep his mouth closed.
With everyone ready Dregan nods to the others and then with Magna pushes forward up the tunnel.
Gavriil smirks as Kalib misses the joke completely. If the lizard was as much of a stick in the mud as Magna, he was going to have a lot fun.
He nods to Magna and says, "Right behind you," before swinging his sword in a duelist's flourish and following their dwarven point-guard.
The wet-looking floor of this large cavern is crisscrossed by several shallow trenches, each containing trickles of putrid looking fluid. Six foul mounds of compost and dung lie heaped about the room, each studded with small spherical eggs.
Of the mites, there is no sign.
"I am ready to move on. Hopefully there's not many left, though." Naralesh turns to Kaalib. "What magics do you have available? I expended much of my day's power getting to this point."
Dregan glances around the room before settling himself with good line of sight on the exits to the room and waits for the argument to start.
"Ah, so you noticed my magical power." Kaalib was playing it cool, but quite proud of what he could do. He maneuvered right over to Naralesh and acted as if they had a secret they could share.
"I have the power of dragons in me. I have a convincing spell, a fear spell and a protection spell. But what I really like to do is breathe fire. I can only do so much before I'm spent as well, so I understand your trouble." He patted the spent arcanist on his elbow in a conciliatory and empathetic manner.
"Don't worry. I'm looking to get back at some of my tormentors. They have a debt to me that can only be paid back in pain, and I am interested in seeing that happen." As they headed into the next room, the Kobold let a tiny trail of smoke out of his mouth while his dull gray scales seemed to shimmer a little with heat around his lips.
"It will be educational to watch you work your magic. My spells are rehearsed, learned from long hours in study - I take it your talents come more naturally." The elf strokes his chin in thought as his tiny fox familiar inspects the kobold with intense interest from atop his shoulders. "I haven't done it in years, but I should be able to enchant some scrolls with my spells, if you're interested. It would allow you to access my magic in addition to your own."