by Tom Hansen
He mulled over the conversation with the Guardboss. The Nagos was indeed hiding out with the Kobolds, and they seemed to be afraid of him. Scarhoof didn’t blame them. An average Nagos was taller than a Tau’raj, by a hand or two. They were formidable foes. He remembered the slain Nagos at the cove’s entrance, and a chill ran up his spine.
Had it only been a few hours? So much had happened since he woke up, and the day wasn’t over.
It had taken half an hour just to make it into the cave. Now he just needed to find the well in the center, dump in the parcel, and wait for it to do something.
The Guardboss turned into a side room just inside the entrance. The passage continued, lit with torches, flames lapping the walls. There were a couple of doorways on either side.
The cave grew noisier with each step. A hundred different voices, clamoring to be heard. The occasional shout rose above the din. There were a lot of Kobolds in here.
Past a slight bend in the cave’s entrance, the walls opened up into an enormous room. Dozens of stalagmite pillars rose to meet the high, vaulted ceilings. Many of the pillars were so large that he would have been hard-pressed to wrap his Tau’raj arms around them, let alone his smaller Kobold ones. In the center of the cave was a ring of stalagmites that had been shaved back, revealing a large pool in the center. The massive room was lit with a magical green fungus that grew up all the walls and ceilings. It was an awesome sight to behold, one he wouldn’t forget.
At least a hundred, if not two-hundred Kobolds danced or swayed in the massive space. Some drooled and gibbered while they walked around swinging their arms in erratic patterns. On the other side of the room, a crowd was forming around a fight.
It was like he had walked into a massive room of drunk Tau’ri. He noticed the white eyes again. Some were whiter than others. He tried to navigate his way down to the central pool while avoiding interactions.
He eyed the timer in the corner of his vision: thirty minutes remaining. It should be plenty of time if the poultice didn’t take very long to work its magic.
He double-checked his quests and reminded himself to fill up on the water first before dumping in the bundle. Nitene needed the untouched water for her experiments.
Edging around feral and drunk Kobolds and pausing to avoid the occasional scuffle, he made his way closer to the center.
A few meters to his right, another fight broke out.
Scarhoof hesitated, trying to judge where the fight was going to go. The crowd’s mood shifted, as a dozen Kobolds chanted and stomped their feet.
As the circle began to close, Scarhoof realized he was trapped inside! By not joining in the circle, he was left out of the safety of the pack.
Frantic, he tried to find a space for escape, but the wall of ghostly faces in front of him looked impenetrable.
He needed to get out. Being in a fight wasn’t exactly laying low, even if it was blending in.
The brawling Kobolds came close, and Scarhoof wedged himself against the wall of chanting onlookers, trying to get out of the way, but he was shoved back into the ring.
Instead of trying to escape to the other side of the circle, he tucked himself into a ball and fell to the ground. He kicked off the Kobold who had shoved him back into the fight and careened into the two brawlers. The first one toppled backwards, crashing into the wall. The second one was caught unaware as he kept rolling through. He tripped and smashed into the unsuspecting wall of Kobolds, and the crowd broke the circle. Scarhoof ducked through, panting and frantic.
Taking a moment to breathe and calm his nerves, he stood back up and made his way back down to the pool.
There was a foul stench in the air, but the pool seemed clear and cool. The ring of stalagmites that formed its edge had been smoothed over the years to a rocky sheen that showed how many millions of times Kobold hands had rubbed against the surface.
The reddish-orange stones were brilliant colors, like the splashes of a sinking sun in the west. It reminded him of the ocean, the blue waters surrounded by brilliant colors as the sun faded away.
Despite the tumult in the cavern, the water was calm. No ripples marred its silky surface. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. Dipping the gourd into the water would definitely disturb it. Despite the way the Kobolds were acting, someone might notice a disturbance in the water.
He looked around. No one was looking. Most watched one of the two fights going on right now. He considered throwing something at another Kobold, to start another fight or two, but that was too risky.
Twenty minutes left on the timer.
Better get this over with so I can get out of here.
With another quick glance around, he popped the top off the gourd and dipped it below the water’s edge.
To his surprise, the water didn’t ripple. The glassy surface of the large pool didn’t seem to notice the gourd intruding its serenity.
He hurriedly filled up the gourd, capped it, then opened his satchel to grab out the poultice.
He had just pulled it from his satchel when a large, meaty hand clamped down on his shoulder.
A course voice whispered into his ear. “What do we have here?”
Startled, Scarhoof dropped the poultice. It landed right on the edge of the surface of the stalagmite border and teetered, ready to fall to the ground below.
He turned toward his captor, trying to keep his nerves from getting the better of him. He reached, and managed to hit the poultice with his tail, preventing it from falling to the ground. He might not be able to get to it again if it fell off the lip of the pool.
A shrill and piercing voice broke through the cacophony.
“What is the heretic doing drinking from the pool?”
The entire room, hundreds of Kobolds, stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him.
Held by one shoulder and another rough hand on his horn, Scarhoof was yanked around to face the source, then pulled from the pool.
He resisted, fighting to stay where he was. From the corner of his eye he could see the poultice. It just needed a nudge. He swished his tail again, trying to reach it.
His captor, the Guardboss that had allowed him into the cave, tugged again. He was larger and stronger than Scarhoof, so there was no point in resisting.
It would be better to play along and look for an avenue of escape after that.
But he had to get that poultice into the pool!
With one swift motion, he jumped up, extending his legs behind him and kicking over and over as he fell face first to the ground.
One kick, two, three. All missed. Kick number four landed just before he hit the ground.
Dull pain lanced through his head.
Guardboss yanked him up again and glared.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorry,” Scarhoof said as the Guardboss yanked him to a standing position. “I tripped.”
The Guardboss grunted and dragged him by the shoulder.
His head free, Scarhoof was able to glance back just in time to see the corner of the small leafy package sink below the placid surface of the water.
Quest Update! Killer Kobolds:
Observe any effects the poultice has on the rabid Kobolds. (Gained 75 XP!)
Chapter 10
“And what do we have here?” The Kobold with the higher pitched scratchy voice was decidedly different from the others. He was older, fatter, and nearly twice as tall. His gut hung down so low it almost touched the ground. He wore a worn wool coat with fringes on the neck that looked like it might have been a cow’s nightgown at some point.
He had to be the king of the Kobolds.
Scarhoof had to stop himself from smirking at the ridiculous sight. The king must have thought it looked regal. The majority of the Kobolds wore nothing more than loincloths.
“Bring him closer. I want to see this strange looking Kobold.”
Guardboss wrenched Scarhoof’s shoulder hard, pushing him to the right and up to a slope that led to the king.
Between his bloody nose and the shoulder, Scarhoof ached, but it was a tolerable pain for reaching his goal. He had retrieved the water and placed the poultice. He had also learned the Kobolds knew about and were afraid of the Nagos, but he hadn’t found any specific evidence yet. Now he just needed to stay alive long enough to observe the effects on the water, then high-tail it out of the cave.
He glanced at the timer. Fifteen minutes remaining.
No problem.
Reaching the top of the dais, Guardboss tossed Scarhoof onto the floor.
He caught himself before his face would have bashed into the rock again, and held a kneeling position, thinking it the best option.
“Humble apologies, my liege, I come from the Eternal Plains. My king bids me to join my brethren here in the Cove and to assist in any way with the downfall of the smelly Tau’raj.”
The king shuffled closer. His wheezy breath rattled with each step. “You look quite interesting, I must say.”
Guardboss spoke up. “His whore of a mother lay with the bovine.” This comment got a rousing laugh from many of the audience.
Scarhoof looked out over the sea of faces staring at the Guardboss. He hadn’t realized just how many white eyes were in the crowd until now. He’d mostly been trying to keep his head down, to be unnoticed, but now he was in the thick of it.
He’d seen Kobolds before, but never like this. Never with the white eyes and powder on their faces, until today.
In one singular day it seemed the whole world had shifted, and he was left hanging in the air, trying to right himself before he struck the ground. What was going on?
“Stand up. You look a fool if I ever saw one.”
Careful about his injured shoulder, Scarhoof stood, keeping his eyes on a spot on the wall so he didn’t potentially offend the king with direct eye contact.
The king grabbed him by one of his horns and yanked, wrenching Scarhoof’s neck painfully and huffed, satisfied.
Rage at this personal intrusion built inside Scarhoof, but he kept his breathing even, and his mind focused. He glanced at the pool in the center. Bubbles were forming, just starting to break the surface. Small wisps of mist puffed into the air as the bubbles popped.
His spirits rose with the bubbles. It’s working.
“Why do you come now? Why not come decades ago when we were exiled?”
Scarhoof willed his face to be impassive. He shrugged. “I know not. I am but a messenger.” As he formed the words, he realized that if he left his answers too open-ended. He might have to start answering questions that he wasn’t prepared for.
He hoped his explanation was suitable. “The guards at the Cove’s entrance were always too big and watchful to pass. Now that the guards are dead we are free to go and come.”
The king scratched his beardless chin. “Aye, they have been that, haven’t they?”
The pounding in Scarhoof’s heart slowed.
The king turned to address the whole room. “But you should know that drinking from the pool in the center is forbidden by my decree. If you are to be one of us, you must drink of the shardwater!”
Throughout the cavern, Kobolds cheered and shouted, pumping their fists in the air and pounding their chests.
Scarhoof’s heart raced. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed more smoke puffing out of the pool in the center. It also seemed like the Kobolds closer to the pool weren’t shouting as much. In fact, there were two shorter ones that didn’t even pump their fists or yell. Their eyes seemed more gray than white and their elongated faces looked confused.
It was working, whatever it was.
Regardless, the rest of the Kobolds were rabid and frantic. Their cheers morphed into yells and screams.
The King grabbed a chalice, holding it above his head, and addressed the crowd with a militaristic flair.
“Clan, the Nagos have brought us the greatest gift; the gift of fury. With this fury we will wipe out the Bovine once and for all, reclaiming our rightful ownership of the cove!”
A merciless scream returned from the crowd whose frenzy was reaching a fever pitch. They pounded their fists on their bodies. Some hunched over and banged on the ground. Bloodied fists were raised in the air.
Their eyes grew ever more terrifying, glowing white.
For the first time since he arrived, Scarhoof was genuinely afraid. He glanced at the timer. Ten minutes. He wasn’t sure what would happen when the disguise timer ran out, but he didn’t want to be here when it happened. Despite his larger size, he would be defenseless this far into the Kobold’s cave with this many rabid enemies.
He needed to diffuse the situation.
Scarhoof held out a hand. “I will drink of the shardwater to partake in the fury of our race!” He shouted these words, doubting anyone would notice. They were so out of their minds that it seemed to matter more how he said it, than what was said.
“Drink!”
A piercing low voice from behind him shot fear through Scarhoof. He knew what sort of creature could create such a slithering sound.
Looming behind the king in the darkened doorway, was a Nagos, his broad shoulders barely fit through the curved doorway.
He stood terrifyingly tall, at least triple the height of a Kobold. His snake-like body writhed along the ground, and his scales were pockmarked with tell-tale signs of battle.
A partial face-mask covered the left side of his face with hints of scarring peeking out from underneath. He wore gold and red armor across his torso that gleamed with every movement. It continued down his back, the scale mail alternating the color pattern down to the tip of his tail where a razor-sharp blade protruded.
He was a warrior, and a steely eyed one at that. His one eye didn’t glow white however, it glowed blue.
Quest Update! Mysterious Blue Scale:
You have found evidence of Nagos in Misty Cave. Report back to Eldermother. (Gained 75 XP!)
Scarhoof’s mouth was dry as the desert in winter as he looked at the chalice in his hand. He couldn’t take his eyes off the monstrous vermin that had slaughtered their guards. Scarhoof stared, memorizing the Nagos’ every feature with rage boiling just under the surface. That bastard killed his kin. He would pay.
“Shardwater! Shardwater!”
The multitudes of the Kobolds chanted. First, it was just a few in front, but it soon spread to more of the group.
No one seemed to notice the growing cloud pulsing from the pool in the center as the herbs and tinctures in the poultice reacted with the magic in the water.
The group of docile Kobolds was growing. The ones closer to the center now had no whiteness in their eyes at all. They mostly observed, confused as the rest of the room continued to chant, stamp their feet, and beat their chests.
All eyes were on him, and the Nagos stood a mere meter away, watching the Kobolds below.
Scarhoof frowned. He didn’t want to hesitate. He was in too deep. The timer showed less than six minutes.
There was something unnerving about that Nagos, and it wasn’t just the fact that he’d killed his friends. There was a feeling, a distant memory ticking at the back of his mind. He was an adventurer, that was for sure, but there was something else.
“Shardwater! Shardwater!” the chanting brought him back to the present.
He upended the chalice into his mouth, swallowing down the white water in one gulp. It was sickly sweet, and he tried not to grimace. He held the chalice into the air, like he had just won a prize.
Effect Status: Spirit Shardwater:
+10% to Spirit Abilities. +5% to Fire and Earth Abilities. -5% to Water and Air Abilities. Duration: 1 Hour.
He wanted to make an impression, get the group fired up again.
He screamed. “More!”
What was he thinking? He was asking for more? Just like getting caught in the fight, he needed to blend in, be part of the crowd, and get them more riled up.
“More! More! More!” the crowd roared and stomped their feet.
A few howled, a guttural, bloodthirsty noise. Startled by the sheer ferocity of it, he wondered how threatened he would have been had he been his normal height. In his current size and with the timer at four minutes, the threat was very real.
It was all he could do to keep from shaking.
The King took the chalice and dunked it into the bucket. White water, like the water left after scrubbing a paintbrush poured out of the bucket and onto the ground. He raised the chalice.
The King put the cup to his lips, pulling a deep drought, then handed it to Scarhoof.
Half the cup was gone, less for him to have to imbibe. He could already feel the concoction working its way through his system. His insides groaned.
He put the chalice to his lips and slammed the rest down his throat. Then dropped it in the bucket.
“For the Ko’bllz!” Scarhoof shouted, taking a careful step back. He continued to inch until he felt the looming presence of the Nagos directly behind him. He had to get out of there.
The Nagos hadn’t yet noticed his movement, he was busy scanning the crowd.
“For the Ko’bllz!” the king shouted, taking a step forward, filling the void where Scarhoof once stood.
Relief flooded Scarhoof. One step closer to freedom.
“Tonight, brethren, we reclaim what is rightfully ours! Tonight, we take down the Bovine! Tonight, we drink the blood of their women from the skulls of their men! Tonight, we become masters of our destiny!”
The crowd went even crazier, but there was a distinct change in the group. While the ones on the outskirts were cheering with renewed vigor, the ones in the middle stood stone-faced and subdued. Some cheered, but they were just going through the motions. One scratched his foot, and another sat on the lip of the pool, staring at the smoke bubbling from within.
Whatever was in the poultice was working.
Quest Update! Killer Kobolds:
Report the effects of the poultice to Eldermother. (Gained 50 XP!)
Three minutes. His time was running out, and he still had to get past the Nagos behind him.