Mot rises and stretches his big arms, gathering his things and slinging them over his back. He pauses to snack on a roll of hardbread, which he crams into his enormous mouth as one bite. Crunching and munching, he follows the others and stoops through the small tunnel that leads out of the storeroom.
When they are ready, their kobold captive leads them out of the food silo. Closing the door behind them, Olp creeps down the small valley, to the north. The air is cool and the sun has not yet surfaced over the horizon, shedding a pale light over the ground and sloping walls of the pass. Occasional sounds of creatures are heard as the night slips away, though most are migrated for the coming winter chill.
The travelers quietly walk through a serene valley, much wider than the narrow, winding ravine at the start of the Blackcrag Pass. True to the name, wide swathes of the earth is scorched black and barren. The dry ground gradually rises steeper and steeper, forming the shoulders of the mountains that flank the low path of the four. Not half an hour passes before the druidess points out another disguised pitfall.
Circumventing the hazard, the four enjoy more uneventful travel for another five hours, save for six traps along the way that are pointed out by Themp, Beorae, and Olp.
Before the sun fully rises over the mountain tops, Themp finds yet another pit trip covered by a layer of gravel, and points it out to the group. The walls of this part of the valley narrow once more, forming natural stone shelves. Before they can move much further, Nme’an sees the highlander in front of him raise his hackles and twitch suspicious eyes to his left, and a high whistle precedes a red arrow striking Mot in the shoulder! The archer does not show himself, and Olp shrieks and looks for cover. A few boulders lay strewn over the dry earth, some of them crumbling into gravel from years of weather.
A small reptilian head ducks silently behind a natural stone shelf, about thirty feet up the cliff to the left. Looking at the stone, there could be a concealed ramp to the archer’s hiding place.
"Watch for the pit trap on our right!", Themp yells as he scrambles for the closest unrigged rock to hug, unslinging his bow from his back.
Beorae's eyes dart back in the direction that the arrow came from and spot the archer just before he disappears from view. Moving into some cover behind a nearby boulder, the druidess points to the rock shelf, “Up there, behind that rock!,”
The druidess takes a quick look around to see if there are any other archers or kobolds in the vicinity.
Shark doesn't miss a beat and tears off toward the rock face as soon as Beorae indicates the direction of the attacker.
"Get to cover!" Nme'an shouts as his training kicks in. He moves west and hunkers down behind a nearby rock formation, fearing more attacks possibly from other directions.
Mot roars in irritation and pain at the arrow protruding from his shoulder. Grasping the shaft he snaps the weapon like so much kindling. Hefting his spear he looks for the aggressor, but his eyes start to cloud and he cannot see where the arrow came from. Blinking to try and clear his vision the highlander hears Beoraes warning and spots Shark move off into the rocks, giving chase his powerful legs catch him up to the tiger as the two move to intercept the archer.
Olp scrambles to the base of a nearby boulder, beside Themp, his wide frightened eyes fixed on the broken red arrow shaft tossed aside by the wild man. “Blood Arrow! Bad bad very very! Hunt to elf and dwarf!”
Shark bounds to the foot of the cliff, and finding a ramp to reach his prey, pivots to leap up. The ground under his paws collapses, but his quick reflexes vault him free of the treacherous pit trap. The ground settles at the shallow pit floor, revealing sharp spikes pointed up from the five-foot deep hole.
The highlander and the grey tiger see an archer kobold crouching behind the low rock wall. As soon as they round the corner, the kobold stoops lower and tumbles into the wall he crouched behind, vanishing from view.
Aside from the words from Olp and the commotion from the highlander and Shark, the ravine is silent. The druidess detects no other aggressors on the walls, hidden or not, though she can see the top of Shark’s head and the bristled ridge of fur that traces his spine, as the tiger stands on the ramp behind a low rock wall.
"Is the red arrow special? Does it hurt Elves more?" Nme'an calls to Olp from across the way.
Moving warily, the heavily armored half-elf puts away his shield and draws his bow before moving back towards Themp and Beorae in the center of the valley.
Surely these creatures know that one of them is unlikely to take down one of us... alone...
Olp spits a terse word in the draconic tongue, most likely a curse, frustrated at his inability to communicate with these Common speakers. He pounds his chest once. “Olp,” he raises a claw up to where Beorae pointed, “Blood. Arrow. Hurt elf and dwarf better.” He gestures to the broken arrow in the dirt, “Not bad very at elf. Bad ... nohmal… to every.”
Without breaking stride the Highlander leaps over the pit trap and lands next to the tiger with a heavy thud. Dropping spear and un-tethering the massive lance in one movement the Casns warrior sprints up the ramp and bends over to peer into the darkened tunnel. With an angry grunt he shoves the lance-point into the black before swinging it around wildly hoping to connect with flesh and bone.
Mot's lance fails to pierce flesh or bone in the dark of the tunnel.
Nme'an moves closer to the Druidess and Rogue, still anticipating another attack.
The sudden quiet gives Beorae an uncomfortable feeling. “Shark, to me!,” she calls as she scans the rest of the environment for signs of movement.
Still deeply uncomfortable with the eerie silence over the trap site, Themp keeps himself quiet, waiting for the calls of clear or enemy from his companions.
Olp keeps his back against the boulder. The kobold shades his eyes from the morning sun and squints at the opposite cliff face. "Tunnels..." he whispers.
The quiet persists…
Moving closer to Olp and the others Nme'an maintains his guarded stance but then has an idea.
"We apologize for our trespass! We mean no harm! We only wish to leave in peace!" the half-elf yells out.
A moment later he turns back to their guide and asks: "Olp. How would I say that in your language?"
Tunnels? So they can flank us at will?, thinks Themp, suddenly aware of his vulnerability.
As Nme'an shouts, however, his focus greatly does a somersault. What?! The hell is the paladin thinking?! ... Hmmm, maybe we could actually shift it our way...
Olp furrows a scaly brow, then enunciates clearly for the paladin: “Friik fah meyzvolaan. Mu seik nid aax. Vos mii bo ko drem.”
The archer, wherever he hides, does not answer knight’s Common tongue.
The Casns warrior curses when his lance clatters against stone. The ears of a huntsman detects the echo into a passage he cannot see into. Spitting in disgust of the cowardly, he lifts a hairy head to speak to his companions in the valley.
“Snivelin’ pipsqueeks’ hidin’ in toonnuhls!” he calls down angrily.
His anger makes his feet restless, and he descends the ramp to retrieve his spear, with wary eyes on the hole the kobold recently disappeared into.
Nme'an repeats Olp's words slowly and loudly.
The lengthened silence intesifies Themp's unease. He readies his muscles for any sudden attack.
Placing one hand on Nme'an's shoulder, Beorae quietly casts Guidance, channeling focusing energies into the Paladin.
“Trespass! Break law! Of the warn, write on sign in beginning!”
A high, screechy voice sounds off from the north, on the same side of the ravine that the archer was first spotted.
A well-aimed shot makes its mark between the metal plates that cover Nme’an’s form.
"Dragon kind you take!" he adds.
The top of the kobold’s flat, scaly head peeks over a bow held sideways, twenty feet high behind a stone shelf.
“Zu'u fen bahvit hi!” the archer calls into the valley.
Mot doesn't see where the shot comes from, but he definitely notices the arrow now in the elvish paladin. "Oi!" he shouts as the big warrior hefts his spear in consternation.
“Up there, now! He's using the tunnels to get around,” Beorae says, pointing at the elevated location of the archer . “Themp, can you hit him?”
“What did he say, Olp?”
Beorae prepares Produce Flame (but doesn't, uh… produce it just yet).
Before answering, Themp lets loose an arrow straight at the offending kobold.
"I think so", he answers with a wink at the druid.
Spotting the archer as he's pointed out, Mot grunts and let's fly his trusty walking stick.
"I was attacked by Dragon-kind two days before the sign!" Nme'an argues as he moves forward into the open. "Five hunted me late in the night for no reason other than I was there! What of that?"
Nme'an draws and aims his bow, ready to take a shot as soon as the Kobold again exposes himself to fire.
"All we wish is to find those left of our people and return them home safely. With no more killing."
For:
The arrow of Themp glances off the stone, only a handsbreadth from the Blood Arrow’s head, who flinches at the close shot. Mot’s spear leaves his hand awkwardly, and it sails sideways before bouncing to the ground twenty feet away from the Casns warrior.
Olp, with his palms covering his head at the shouted Draconic, gulps and answers the druidess, not taking his eyes off the ground, “Not of worry on me, speaks Blood Arrow. But me knows laws of capture. Not want…” he shakes his reptilian head, “hard mining, deep and dark...”
-------------------------
“Destiny manifest!” shrieks the archer, “All land in ruling of dragon, as in old days! Blood right of dragons!”
Nme’an sees another red arrow drawn back against the bow, the archer rising only a few more inches as he takes aim. “Your people kill, but we will kill more!”
Two bowstrings twang at the same time. The red arrow glances off the knight’s steel gorget, and Nme’an’s arrow strikes the edge of the rock, causing the kobold to reflexively duck behind the stone cover.
Too busy to make a reply, Nme'an hurries closer and takes cover behind one of the smaller boulders that dot the area.
"Kukesha juu ya nyuma yako, Bi Sevenstone. Mtu mkubwa na mimi kujaribu na nguvu Kobold katika wazi! he calls in Elven, hopeful that the Blood Arrow member does not understand their language.
Nme'an then leans around the rock and addresses Mot. "One of us should guard the tunnel door here while the other moves forward," he says. "Seeing as I am ahead of you in the Druidess' contest by two kills vs. your none I offer you the choice, Mtu mkubwa: Do you wish to guard or to attack?"
Yoo dinnae kill any Koboolds yet! Mot proclaims hefting his sword in calloused hands. A devilish grin takes his face, Thoo, see'n oos et'll taek yoo a moonth ta even GET too tha gommeril. Ah'll taek poont! With leaps and bounds the Highlander starts moving towards the last known location of the sniper.
In the sudden quiet, Beorae surveys the area, considering the terrain and the Blood Arrow's movements. He's moving in a clockwise direction… Following the terrain, her blue eyes narrow as they fall on an outcropping of rock to the northeast. On a whim, the druidess starts moving her feet. “Shark, come!”
Beorae scans the area for more traps and pitfalls before they move up the stairs.
Olp’s head jerks in many directions as the highlander, the druidess, and the grey tiger spring into action. He turns a nervous look to Themp’s quiver of arrows, afraid of the “special” arrow among them.
“Me run not,” he reassures the thief, before once more crouching low against the boulder.
Though Olp said he wouldn't run, he definitely thought about running for a moment, while his captors are spread thin.
"You wouldn't dare, dragonkin.", snarls Themp at the small kobold.
"I have not used the arrow yet.", he adds, letting loose another one at Blood Arrow. "Thought you should keep that in mind."
Miss Sevenstone’s eye for the natural and unnatural warns her of a large covered pit trap under the gravel near the huge boulder. Skirting its edge, she chases after Shark, and notices a smaller pit trap in the path of her faithful beast. Beorae is able to shout out a halting command just in time, and the big grey predator bounds to a stop at the edge of the concealed pitfall.
The big man is less fortunate. Vaulting over the spiked pit, his long strides carry him over uneven patches of rocks and up the stone ramp. The ramp turns and continues up, and once he pivots, he sees the kobold crouching with his bow pointed down the ramp, waiting for someone to turn the blind corner. But before Mot can close the distance, his boot suddenly snaps a well-concealed trigger wire. A large axe blade whips around the corner, arcing a lateral cut across the narrow passage, catching the highlander in the chest. The haft appears to swing from a mechanism within the stone. Though the pain of the blow is great, the momentum of the big man pushes him onward. Freeing himself of the blade, now dipped in blood, he swats it aside and closes the distance in seconds, much to the surprise of the Blood Arrow.
The kobold archer wears leather armor, girded with a black belt and a silver clasp. A quiver of red fletched arrows swings at his side. A strange, stumpy tube is strapped just above one of the kobold’s eyes, almost like a single, off-center black horn with a shorn point. Speaking of eyes, the kobold’s widen as the highlander towers over him, and he tries to tumble between Mot’s feet, toward a hole in the rock.
The archer slips past Mot’s defenses, and somersaults into the tunnel. Rolling to his feet just inside the hole, he snaps a haphazard shot at the wild man.
The red arrow pierces Mot’s side!
Olp says nothing and stays low and out of the way.
Though the axe blade nearly knocks the wind out of him, somehow the highlander finds enough breath to roar in anger at the arrow protruding from his side. The blood flows freely from his grievous wounds, as the big mans heart starts pumping furiously. The usually-clear blue eyes go out of focus and tint red with the blood boiling in his veins as the Casns warrior takes a firm step forward.
Muscles bunch and tighten as he whips the great sword through the air, it's blade whistling in the quiet.
The highlander’s greatsword cuts deep across the kobold’s torso, but the archer still stands, and cries out in pain.
Nme'an can't believe the highlander continued to move, much less fight, after the ax caught him straight in the chest. Regardless, he knows the big man must be severely wounded and rushes to help. Bow stowed, sword held, the half-elf races forward.
Beorae and Shark move up the ramp, searching for another hole to ambush the kobold in case he appears. The druidess keeps Produce Flame readied, but un-cast.
The kobold archer tumbles backward, deeper into the tunnel and out of reach of the highlander.
But his grievous wounds slow his reaction time, and the berserker sees an opening!
The kobold narrowly escapes, and slips out of sight. The tunnel angles sharply downward, passing directly beneath the ramp Nme’an ascends, and its entrance is too small for the wild man to enter, even crouching.
Aside from the knight’s clamorous armor and the highlander’s labored breathing, no sounds indicate where the Blood Arrow might show himself next.
Looking out over the ravine from the higher vantage point, the druidess spots a small hole on top of the huge boulder nearby, placed to be unseen from anyone on the ravine floor. If this archer is indeed working his way clockwise, this might be his next destination.
Beorae reaches the top of the rock and her sharp eyes survey the area.
Nme'an reaches Mot too late to engage their common enemy but notices the blood on the edge of the highlander's sword he nods then reaches out a healing hand.
Turning to look across the landscape, first to the previous tunnel the Kobold slipped into, then to Themp and Beorae, Nme'an calls out: "We lost him. He is injured and perhaps withdrew... but be ready if he did not!"