Sent Kobold
Chapter 3: Kobold’s Past
Serhis tries his best to answer Baous about his past, as well as his own.
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“Ha… Haur… Uh, Serhis, how do you say this?” asked Baous.
“Haurach.”
“Oh, that’s what that was, thanks,” said Baous, returning to the book that he was studying from, learning Draconic with the assistance of Serhis.
Haurach. The Draconic word of Fate. Fate seems to have little bearing on us right now, thought Serhis. They had left Aveamaria nearly a week ago and it would take another two days before they came to the next town, the first stop on their investigation of these rumors that had spread. During that time, Serhis had been teaching Baous how to speak Draconic and Baous had spent the nearly the whole trip muzzle first in the book. Since there wasn’t much to do while on the road beside walk and talk, it seemed the only other thing to do. He picked up most of the basic words fast enough, but the more complicated ones presented more problems and the grammar structure was difficult. His accent was good though. Serhis didn’t help him read the book, though, Baous wanted to do that himself and only asked for help when he found an unusual word or had already read it and wanted to see if he missed anything.
Travelers on the road gave them a wide berth, but nobody did anything aggressive. The sight of a human-sized canine busy reading and a child-height lizard singing hymns to himself was more something to gawk at as they walked by rather than something to pick a fight with as someone passed.
“Getting dark soon, going to need to set up camp,” noted Serhis, the orange afternoon fading to the pale blue of the evening.
“Yeah, it getting a little hard to read this now,” Baous said as he closed the book, looking at the darkening path.
Camp was set quickly, a small fire and dinner made. Baous kept trying to read the book in the firelight. “Serhis, could you read me this page please?” Baous asked, handing him the book.
Serhis skimmed the page, seeing what had either interested or confused Baous, only to find the one word that explained it all.
Petisse, the Draconic word for Kobold.
Of all the words Baous had learned, this was the one that he could remember on the first try. As he read through the book, he would always take interest when he saw the word on the page, always asked Serhis to translate the entire section. The only entries in the book about Kobolds he had could find were about Serhis’ people, with descriptions of general physical features, mentality, and culture.
This page displayed an odd version of the word for Kobold, as well as describing features and mannerisms that were completely different. Baous had likely spent the whole two weeks looking for this section, for any hint about where he came from or what others like him had done.
“This page talk about Baous’ Kobolds,” Serhis said, confirming what Baous had hoped for after all that reading.
“What does it say?” Baous asked, intent on hearing every detail from Serhis, wanting to make sure he had read everything right.
The other times, Serhis had given a summary of the section, but this time, with Baous having a keen interest on the subject, he spared no detail.
The physical descriptions were accurate, Kobolds of Baous’ race averaged nearly five feet and a half, if they didn’t stretch on their legs in a fashion similar to Serhis to get a few inches higher, though not without discomfort. It described the kobolds having canine features in some detail. While informative, Baous was more interested in the following paragraph, since he is a Kobold and already knows he has a tail and sharp teeth. The culture was described as being generally nomadic, most settlements designed to be temporary and moving to more fertile areas when it was necessary. They preferred temperate climates, but adaptable to the harsh heat in the desert and the sweeping winds of the plains, traveling in large packs. These packs were either roving war bands, plundering the area for supplies that are needed or were wandering communities that looked for the next place to stay and gather supplies, tending to a large herd of whatever counted as cattle. Typically, a war band would be created from the tribe as a means of defense or to raid supplies when the tribe had little resources to take, but sometimes these war bands would depart after supplying the tribe what it needed or when a group of aggressive kobolds form by their own doing, to seek their own fortunes. Their diet consisted one of an omnivore, they could eat both plant and animal, but needed more meat than vegetable than a human would need to consume to be healthy. Though most were nomadic, there have been records of permanent settlements, but none have been reported nearby where Serhis and Baous were. Culturally and mentally, the description of these Kobolds are that they are very connected to their tribe, loyalty to one another a strong factor.
So very much like our own, Serhis thought.
The nomadic tribes tend to have an aggressive mentality in their interactions, but not always hostile. However, the incidents were a hostile war band sacking a town has created a negative reputation, suspicion or outright hostility being a general theme when a Kobold group is reported in the area, leading to the tribe creating a war band to fend off any assault, perpetuating the reputation. However, that does not mean that this reputation does not come from base facts.
Again, so much like our own.
The book continued to detail about typical Kobold weaponry, armors, mannerisms, and hygiene until the section ended. Serhis looked up from the book, seeing Baous deep in thought about what he had heard. Leaving him to his thoughts, Serhis closed the book, sliding it over to him.
“And here I was hoping that I missed something more,” Baous said, surprising Serhis a little.
“What you mean?” Serhis asked.
“I was hoping maybe I missed something, you know, something about certain tribes, where they are, what they do.”
True, although the book was informative, it offered nothing specific about individual tribes and their locations, thought Serhis, “So, you already know about most word here in book, huh?”
“Well, I did kinda skip a few words I didn’t know, you sorta filled in the ones I missed,” Baous said.
“You getting better, good night Baous,” Serhis said, heading over to his bedroll, getting ready to sleep.
“Uh, Serhis, when I read about the other Kobolds, I might have missed a few things about them too. I’m kinda wondering if maybe you’d tell me about yourself, you never did say much about where you came from,” Baous asked, not sure if he was entering delicate territory about this subject.
To Serhis, it is something that has given him pause, always making him think if he had made a good choice, but it wasn’t something he wouldn’t talk about, especially to a friend that asked. He realized he never really did say much about his past, even after all these weeks.
“… Okay. If you want to know, Serhis will be glad to share, but will speak in Draconic, will be easier to speak that way and you might learn a word or two while at it,” he answered.
Baous nodded, putting the book into his backpack, then turning his full attention to Serhis.
“I was born in the city of Lehaskeral, under the mountain that most surface dwellers called the Hyllian Ridge. I’m not sure how far away it is now, but since it took around three months to get from there to Dunben, I know it’s a long way away. It would likely take a shorter time to get there if I wanted to go back, since now I know where the roads are going. Anyway, Lehaskeral is a big place, a big Kobold city. Silver is what mostly is found in the mines at home, but last I heard, they found a nice pocket of platinum. There are about ten thousand people living there, but since there’s been talk about a division last time I visited, it might be half that now.”
Baous spoke up, “What division? Something that half of them didn’t agree on?”
“No, no, it means that since room was running out, half of them would leave to make a new settlement while half would stay. Regardless, I should stop talking about the minor details home, I guess it might bore you, since you asked about myself.”
Serhis took a deep breathe, delved into his memories as much as possible, and spoke of them.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I was born ten years ago in the season of spring. My mother’s name is Sanlie, my father’s Thouis. I am descended of the tribe Charirgix. When my egg was laid, my mother was overjoyed to see the unique markings on it’s shell, flecks of gold, something that marks the child in the egg as a Dragonwrought, a Kobold that is said to be someone possessing a great fate or destiny, deeply connected to dragons. I’m not sure if the fate and destiny part is true, but it most certainly is something that makes your actions more noticeable, as well as easier to do. After I hatched, there’s not much to say, I was raised in the nursery and made friends with my hatch mates there. I seemed to draw the attention of a lot of the other Kobold hatchlings, they always seemed to love looking at my light shining off my gold scales. Then again, I suppose if you hold something nice and shiny in front of any baby, it’s definitely going to grab their curiosity. Most of what I did for fun when I could walk was running up and down through Lehaskeral, mostly carrying some supplies or something from one place to another, but since I was young, I pretty much loved going to new parts of my home that I’ve never been to. I also took a liking to going to the trap maker’s workshop, seeing the cogs move, the wheels spin, watching the masters at work. I could say this obsession with machines and traps is still with me and has influenced all of my life. When I was three, I began my apprenticeship as a cleric.
Before I was a cleric of Bahamut, I was a cleric of Gakulak, the Kobold deity of protection, stealth, and trickery. I was suited for the task, I loved being able to go to the workshop, not just carrying things back and forth anymore, but actually helping the masters make things. A duty of a cleric is also to heal the injured, and I was apt at the task, my skill at using herbs and medicines advanced for someone of my age. For half my life, I was an efficient cleric that offered kind healing to the injured miners and workers, while at the same time starting to work on my own traps to help protect our home. Not much happened during that time, though there was that one incident when I was five…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Serhis, hurry up, would you?!” urgently whispered the Kobold next to him, tugging him along the path.
Serhis made sure his trap wasn’t damaged after he had just dropped it, “I’m trying, Xet! If you helped me carry this, then maybe we’d get there faster.”
“Quiet, both of you. Stealth first, speed next,” came the hushed whisper of Rhasalis, her eyes scanning the path in front of them, then turning to look over her shoulder.
The three Kobolds kept scampering up the unoccupied tunnel, mindful of where certain traps were placed and barely seeing sunlight at the top.
Serhis kept asking himself why in the name of Gakulak he’d let himself get dragged on this crazy adventure. He wasn’t even sure what was to gained by doing this.
He’d been approached by Xet and Rhasalis earlier today while he was on his way over to the workshop. He was hoping to see if he could fix all the kinks out of his new trap, but no, they had asked him to come with them on their little trip to the surface. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, he’d never been to the surface and he had seen most of Lehaskeral, minus the new mines being dug out.
Xet and Rhasalis were two of his hatch mates, if anything happened to them while they were up there, he’d probably wouldn’t forgive himself, but since the both of them had already made up their minds to go up top and he’d warned someone else to stop them, they would be the ones not to forgive him. So there he was, still carrying his trap, going up to the surface, on some crazy adventure to see sights that might or might not be worth it, his two best friends glancing over their shoulders to see if they’d been caught. No one was suppose to go to the surface without a good reason, ranging from transporting more dirt from the mines, getting more supplies that could not be made or found underground, or to go on patrol, and most certainly not without reasonable protection. Three Kobolds juveniles barely hitting puberty only interested in seeing what was this “sky” they’ve heard about and with little in the name of armor and weapons certainly didn’t meet the criteria.
Xet was always brash, a bit impulsive, and full of fiery energy. It was his idea to go up and decided his two friends should see the sights as well. More likely it was in case if they got caught it wouldn’t be only his hide on the line. He meant well, but Serhis swore he’d never know how he’d get out of some of the situations Xet would run them into. He was studying to become a sorcerer’s apprentice and he was beginning to get the grasp of using the basic cantrips. Though an inch taller than Serhis, he always was a little jealous of Serhis’ status as a Dragonwrought, but that doesn’t stop him from being a good friend. Intelligent and with a sharp wit is the best Serhis could describe him.
Rhasalis was generally a quiet Kobold, but she was quite vocal on her views and necessary actions. Not necessarily stubborn, it would take a smart Kobold to find a way for her to be wrong. She always gave the two a hug whenever they met, though she’d have some difficulty when Serhis’ wings got in the way. Her choice of training was that of stealth and ambush, her trainers honing her skills in the arts of a silent kill, stealth, and theft, hoping when all was finished, they would turn her loose and watch as she’d turn the tide of battle with a swift blade and sharp claws, victory gained when key enemies are eliminated, vital information taken from the lips and pockets of the enemy wherever she could. Though they were not of the same parents, Serhis always thought of her as an older sister, despite her smaller frame. Being hatch mates, this is a close equivalent.
As hatch mates, it wasn’t hard for them to make friends with one another in the nursery. They cared for one another, the other two making sure things got better if the other was in a poor situation.
Now though, Serhis’ wasn’t sure if they were getting him into a poor situation.
Seeing a bright light unlike any of the fires that light the caverns of home, they sped up, emerging from the mouth of the cave into a bright sunlit hillside. Though the bright light hurt their eyes, they could not help but still stare at the landscape around them.
Behind them and above the entrance of their home was the Hyllian Ridge, continually sloping upwards into the sky, above the clouds. To their left and right, the broad hillside, rising and falling in gentle curves, showing the edge of the horizon. To their front, a lush flat field of grass, then the brown and green wall of a forest.
What first overwhelmed the three young Kobolds was the unrelenting spaciousness of the world around them, the open sky, and the wind blowing freely around them. Even though they had heard and read stories about the surface, it all still paled in the face of actually experiencing such an alien landscape. The light of the sun forced them to shield their eyes as the continued to look around them, even if the first thing they did look at was the bright sphere of fire in the sky, such a foreign thing that simply hung in the sky casting light and warmth to the ground. The sky itself made them dizzy, their difficulty in comprehending such a thing difficult after spending their lives in enclosed spaced, such availability of space was something they had never seen before. Unfortunately, such inexperience also made them somewhat sick when they looked at the distant horizon, their minds recoiling at the sight, having lived only in tunnels only had made them too used to the tunnels that always ended eventually, it was like looking down a cliff into a bottomless pit, but horizontally. Eventually, after continuous trips to the surface, such illness would pass, but for now they averted their eyes from the horizon and looked at the forest and the high ridges of the mountain. Even the wind was unnerving in a manner, the shifting breeze felt strange, since at home if a wind blew, it only came from one direction.
Such unusual sights made the three stand there for several minutes, taking in all of the wide world that had just previously been so small compared to the scale that was laid before them. The concept of clouds, the fields of grass, the open sky, they had little comprehension of it before when they heard tales of these things, now it was flooding their eyes and minds as they stood in combined awe and sickness of this alien world.
Rhasalis was the first to snap out of the trance that had ensnared them, motioning to the two boys, “Come on, get behind those things, trees I think, right? Can’t get caught now, can we?” she added impishly as she bounded off to the tree line. The two stood for a moment, still caught up at looking around them, then the words registered in their heads and the sprinted after her. The grass felt weird as they crossed it, it was unlike the moss or stone floors of the tunnels or the feel of a rug at home. Getting to the trees, Rhasalis carved a marking in a tree with one of her daggers, a sign to lead them home.
The shady forest was a relief from the bright sunlight of the open hillside, the trees helping to ease the feeling of unrelenting open space somewhat. It was cold though, the warmth of their home under the mountain ridge no longer applied here.
Regardless of the discomfort, this place was new, exciting, something completely removed from the stone walls of home. Strange as this place is, uncomfortable as it may be, it still is somewhere any young person would go that wasn’t the old and plain.
Xet looked up at a towering pine, claws touching the bark, “So, was I right? Bet you don’t regret coming with me now, huh?”
Serhis could only nod, still enthralled by the sights, sounds, and smells bombarding him. “So strange, a little cold, kinda makes me dizzy. But really something to see.”
They continued through the woods, smelling the plants and fascinated by the animals they could catch a glimpse of, coming to a small glade in the woods. “Hey, can we stop here, I’m getting tired carrying this thing around,” asked Serhis. The two others agreed and sat down, glad enough to be in the warming light instead of the cooling shadows of the trees.
Content enough to lay back, closing their eyes and listening to the wind rustling the leaves, they stayed for about half an hour, sometimes talking to one another about what they had just seen or some events at home, but mostly they were silent.
Silence is best when listening to heavy boots running through woodland.
All three stood up at the sound of multiple feet pounding ground, metal clanging against metal and the scurrying of animals fleeing from the source. “What is that?” whispered Rhasalis, inching back to get behind a tree.
A guttural tongue speaking a language they had never heard before yelled out, perhaps issuing orders, causing the three to leap back behind the trees, turning around to see what was coming. Out marched into the glade, a party of Orcs. All were armed, heavily armored, and had the look of dangerous intent to them.
All three Kobolds gave nervous looks to one another. There were six Orcs in the glade, they definitely didn’t look friendly, and they were coming their way. If they tried to flee for home now and were spotted, the Orcs would likely shoot them down halfway across the open grass field, and they certainly couldn’t fight. Frightened glances were made as they looked all around them, looking for some way to get back home without alerting the pack.
Serhis gave one more peek past his tree, seeing how close the Orcs were now, only to have the pit of his stomach drop out. Out laid on the glade, half covered in grass, was his trap, he’d forgotten to grab it when had run for the trees. If the Orcs saw it, they’d get suspicious and come even closer. See it they did, the carved wood and shaped metal clearly something not belonging in the woods, and they approached where the Kobolds were hiding. As the Kobolds hide behind the trees, shock still, scared and barely breathing, the Orcs spoke to one another, perhaps wondering what such a thing was doing here and what it actually was, one going over and placing his hand on it to pick it up.
What Serhis’ had intended to make was a combination of a leg snare and an ditherbomb trap that had the added mixture of some alchemists fire, the person that stepped into it would be stuck there while an explosion ripped though the rest of the person. Unfortunately, he was still very inexperienced in making traps himself, the snare couldn’t really hold a leg to the ground and would likely be free with one good pull and the explosion made was really more of a puff, the mixture of chemicals sometimes counteracting each other.
Serhis’ hadn’t taken into account what would happen if someone actively picked his trap up with his hands and looked closely at it.
The metal bars snapped closed and latched onto the Orc’s face, causing him to run and flail frantically, before calming down after noticing it wasn’t actually hurting him, then he started to pry the bars open.
A soft click could be heard from the front of his face.
Though the ditherbomb was of substandard quality, it really doesn’t matter when it literally blows up in someone’s face.
It was now that the Orc started screaming, along with some of the other’s around him as the miniature bomb exploded, causing a good deal of panic and chaos in the glade while the uninjured Orcs tried to help pry off the now on-fire trap still hanging on the main trap victim while putting out the smaller fires on the rest. By the time all that was done and they were combing the surrounding trees for whatever might have set the device, Serhis, Xet, and Rhasalis had already started running to catch up with the sound of the explosion.
“Serhis, that was genius! Let them put their own head in the thing and then it goes off! How’d you know he’d do that?” exclaimed Xet as they dashed through the trees.
“I didn’t! I thought maybe it’d catch a foot or something, not the head,” replied Serhis, a bit out of breathe from the combination of running at a sprint and the fear still running through his body.
“You didn’t? Maybe you should think about designing it around that idea,” mused Rhasalis as she turned around to look for any sign of pursuit, then concentrating on finding the markers to guide them home.
For the moment, trap design was far from Serhis’ mind. Their first journey above the surface turned into a true scare-your-scales-off adventure, they were probably going to get into trouble for going up here by themselves, they had just made some very nasty enemies, though it was likely they were already hostile to begin with, and he had successfully deployed his first trap. All in all, Serhis couldn’t figure out if this was going to end with them getting home without anyone finding out about this little escapade or that this was going to result in a nasty situation.
Running fast and low on the open field, they came up to the mouth of the cave that lead back home, badly out of breathe and still in a fight-or-flight mode. Jittery and tense, they looking into the cave to make sure no grown-ups were standing just inside to give them a stern reprimand and were relieved to see no one.
“Xet, I don’t know about regretting coming here, but that was the scariest time of my life,” said Serhis as he leaned on a stone for support.
“Well, maybe. Come on, get inside,” Xet replied, starting to walk back home.
Rhasalis’ eyes opened wide as she looked over her shoulder one more time, then roughly grabbed Serhis’ robes and Xet’s tunic before pulling them at a run into their home, “They saw us!”
“WHAT! How?! Aren’t they still inside where the trees are?” cried Xet as he was dragged roughly for a few seconds before starting to run on his own.
“On a tree, on a tree! Can‘t tell how it got up there so fast, but I know it spotted us. Keep running,” was all Rhasalis could say, trying to save her breathe for sprinting.
Serhis couldn’t say anything himself, the possibility of being punished for going out was now replaced by the likely chance of getting killed. Still out of breathe from their previous run, they could only run so far in before tiring themselves that they could only walk, but far enough in that they reached the boundary where traps had been set for intruders. Breathing heavily, they leaned against the walls of the dark tunnels to regain their strength, but not for long. From the entrance, they could see a torch being lit. The Orcs where coming in.
Serhis started to twist his tail, looking at his hatch mates, each of them scared, then started to keep going down the tunnel, both of them following. The tunnel leading to home was a fair distance away and Serhis couldn’t tell if they would get back before the Orc raiding party caught up.
The entrance tunnels of Lehaskeral are standard fair of Kobolds, meaning heavily trap infested and would fire off as soon as anything heavier than a kobold walked in, which would definitely apply to Orcs carrying viciously sharp and heavy weaponry while wearing even heavier metal armor. The problem for any kobold was getting them into the traps while making sure their own hides weren’t caught in the crossfire or letting them get too close. The only thing concerning the three hatch mates, however, was to reach the safety of home.
Clawed feet scrabbling through the darkness, they reached the first intersection. Four tunnels split in different directions These tunnels were designed to confuse and attempt to make any intruders lost in the darkness and fall victim to the traps in the shadows. All four led into another intersection that was an exact replica of the first and invaders would emerge from one of the four, thinking that the tunnels looped back to the entrance and would likely try a separate, but equally deadly route. But the first intersection had one tunnel that was the shortest, used mainly for when Kobolds needed to speedily go in and out of the mountain without having to go through the winding passages and was meant for heavy loads. Which also meant the standard weight limit traps didn’t apply and was twice as deadly to make up for the short trip.
At the first intersection, Xet started to go down the tunnel that would be the quickest and fasted way to Lehaskeral proper, Rhasalis grabbed onto his tunic and yanked him back, to which he quickly protested, “What are you doing?!”
“Not that way, we need to use the other tunnels, lead them through the ‘gauntlet’, I think the patrols call them,” said Rhasalis as she roughly held Xet as he kept trying to go down the shortest path.
“Are you crazy?! We need to get back home now, let me go!”
“No, we need to slow them down first, give us time to really get home. If we go the fast way, we’re going to get caught before we get inside, right Serhis?” Rhasalis replied as fast as she could, a bit of her incomplete training coming into play.
Serhis was torn, he knew both were right. The actual passage to Lehaskeral is hidden behind a false stone wall in the second intersection, it could close under a second and still not make a sound, handy for Kobolds withdrawing from a confrontation and letting their pursuers go through “the gauntlet” without letting them know that all the other passages were fakes, also useful for three curious Kobold children trying to sneak out without the loud grating of metal and stone. It was also designed so that it was slow to open, giving time for defenders to prepare should it be discovered, it would only open quickly should someone behind the door set the appropriate counterweight.
The only reason the three had gotten out was because no one was stationed at the door.
If the Orcs caught up before they could get the passage open, that was the end, and they likely would, as the children had to weave through traps that would be set off regardless of who stepped on them. But Serhis was tired and Xet probably was in even worse shape, the apprentice sorcerer was fit, but in no way accustomed to a run this fast and hard. Rhasalis is likely the fastest and most fit of all three.
If they opted for the shortest path, even if their pursuers ran into every single trap it still might not be enough. If they took the path Rhasalis wanted, there was a chance that they would be caught inside that tunnel as exhaustion slowed them down.
“We’re not going that way Rhasalis,” was Serhis’ decision. Xet grinned in triumph with his friend’s call and started to go back down the path, only to be tugged back by the tunic again, this time by Serhis, “We’re not going that way either,” he said, pointing down a different tunnel altogether, “This way.”
“Huh?” “But Serhis!” were what Rhasalis and Xet replied, confused.
The glow of the approaching torches came ever closer, “You’ll find out, just hurry,” Serhis hissed in a rush as he started running down the indicated path, his two hatch mates and friends hurrying, questioning why he’d pick this path.
Halfway through the tunnel, Serhis was out of breathe and Xet was leaning on Rhasalis for support. All they could hear now was the sound of heavy boots echoing down the tunnel, the sound of Xet breathing heavily as his chest heaved in and out for air.
Then, a wet, sticky sound and surprised cries.
Serhis sighed in some relief at that sound, Xet and Rhasalis expressing a dawn of comprehension. This tunnel was by no means the harsh and painful route that Rhasalis had wanted to lure the Orcs into, but it was also longer. This tunnel mainly had snares that slowed and immobilized intruders while more damaging objects struck at easy to hit targets. This tunnel wasn’t really designed to slow them down, but the combination tangle foot bag, caltrops, and alchemist’s fire trap the Orcs had just run into certainly gave the Kobolds more breathing room.
From here, they didn’t need to run so hard.
As they continued down the tunnel, every few moments, they would hear another loud yell and the sound of another pit fallen into or the flutter of a net dropping, and the accompanying noise of sharp metal hitting the target or the crackle of flames. Though they didn’t need to run anymore, they advanced at a forced pace, distance still required when the door is to be opened.
As they reached the end, Serhis came to a dead stop, Rhasalis and then Xet nearly ramming into him, “What now?” hissed an irritated Rhasalis, before clamping her snout shut as she saw why.
In the intersection, it glowed with lights and shadows, likely from a torch. There were never any torches in the maze, Kobolds could see perfectly fine in the total darkness and it helped to disorient intruders. As the light came closer to the tunnel entrance, the three pressed themselves against the right wall, barely breathing for fear of making a sound. Into their vision came an Orc holding a torch and a spear, cautiously investigating the strange hissing noise she had heard.
How did that happen? Serhis’ mind screamed. Was that Orc a shaman, a mage or some sort that could teleport right past them. The actual reason entered half a second later into his mind, she simply took the shorter route. That meant even if they did take the short route, they would have gotten caught at the rate they were tiring. Small consolation as the Orc warrior cautiously peered into the tunnel, saying something before a second Orc came into view with a crossbow. What little hope of maybe overwhelming a lone Orc that could have been caught unaware fled just as fast as Serhis’ heart, leaving him with a cold, empty feeling. Their way home was blocked.
Dolt, I didn’t think what would happen if they just split up, they don’t know where any of the tunnels go.
The torchlight could barely illuminate the tunnel, but it was just enough that the kobolds could see the barest outline of themselves in the light. The Orcs could only see the barest sign of them, but they couldn’t run, the Orcs would see something move in the shadows and fire a bolt or throw the spear at their fleeing backs. The light was also just enough that a small glint reflected off of Serhis’ gold flecked scales.
The female Orc holding the torch stayed in the intersection while the male approached, each step with great caution.
Serhis’ turned, grabbed his friends in a hug-like embrace and spread his wings to cover them by the wall, dropping into a crouch. He could only do so much to protect his hatch mates when that weapon loosed the bolt. Perhaps there was the smallest chance that the Orcs would let his body lie there covering his friends from being discovered, thought Serhis in a melancholy manner, but even then, it was likely they would all be killed, and he only wanted to hold his friends for the last time. Rhasalis’ eyes had open wide when Serhis grabbed her, they stayed just as wide when she realized what he was doing, Xet trying his best not to cry, tears coming out from growing fear and their approaching death, voice small and quietly saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want us to die, I’m sorry.”
Serhis was crying as well, but he couldn’t risk moving as his breathing threatened to start hiccupping, trying to stay still and give as much protection as his small body and wings could. Even if they were children, these Orcs would not forgive for the injuries inflicted on them. Serhis, age 5, son of Thouis and Sanlie, apprentice cleric of Gakulak and trap maker of the city of Lehaskeral, prayed for the lives of his friends as he was about to die.
With the sound of the Orc coming closer, no more noise could be heard, they held their breathe as their tears dropped to the floor. The curious Orc reached for Serhis’ wings, as if to pick something off them, Serhis’ efforts to resist moving now aided with a dose of stiffening fear.
Before the Orc could touch the leathery wing, the female Orc barked out something in their language and swatted his hand away, giving a warning look, gesturing to the path they had taken to get here, the other seeming to realize something and jumped back from Serhis. Nothing was said or done for a few seconds, before the sound of screaming Orc filled the passage, back from where the Kobolds had come from. The two Orcs gave a grim look to one another, then advanced cautiously down the tunnel, being extra sure to watch their step.
When the Orcs had left, Serhis sank to the floor, taking deep breathes, having held his breathe for nearly over a minute. Xet and Rhasalis where still leaning against the tunnel wall before they too fell to the ground, the fear making their legs buckle finally won out. Rhasalis regained some of her composure, trying to control her breathing and helped Xet up, then Serhis. For Serhis, as she lifted him by his arm and robes, she held his face close to hers and silently hissed in a mixture of anger and emotion, “What in Gakulak’s name where you thinking?!”
“I, I just thought, I could hide you, maybe. We didn’t have anywhere to go, I just thought-” replied a shaky Serhis.
“You thought what? You would just stand there and hope that when you got killed, they wouldn’t notice us?”
“Maybe,” was all Serhis could say.
Xet kept giving a nervous glance over to where the Orcs had gone, “Why’d they just leave? I thought he was going to touch you and we’d get caught? What was on you that he wanted to touch?” he said as he went around Serhis, searching his back for anything that shouldn’t have been there, seeing nothing.
“I don’t see anything, just… oh. Serhis, he was trying to touch your scales.”
My scales, thought Serhis. Why my scales? Aside from the gold flecks… oh. That’s what he wanted. He thought may scales were real gold on a rock, that he could scratch some off. But I’d have looked so out of place there, why did the other one stop him?
Another loud yell sounded out in the caves, another victim claimed by the traps.
Traps. They went though the traps in the short path anyway, they would have known there were more traps in these tunnels. In the dim light, I looked like an out of place rock with gold, an obvious attempt to entice greed. Self preservation won out against the lust for gold, so they elected to move past this danger.
Before Serhis could say anything about this revelation, Xet was pulling on Rhasalis and himself into the intersection, “Come on, before they get back,” he said in urgency.
By the time the entire, though badly injured, group of Orcs had regrouped in the second intersection, the door had sealed shut and the word was out in Lehaskeral that there were intruders.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“My first time going to the surface and I nearly got myself killed,” mussed Serhis.
Baous had listened to the whole thing, leaning on his arm, and needed to shake it when he realized it had fallen asleep, “What happened after that?”
“Well we didn’t get caught by the Orcs, but we got caught by the guards coming back in,” Serhis replied, holding the back of his robes like someone was carrying his by the scruff of the neck, “We all got a whack on the back of the head for that, but we were complimented on out witting the Orcs. Not that we intended it, but we weren’t going to say different. Spent the next week resetting the traps that the Orcs tripped. Rhasalis had to gather all the bodies, or the pieces, anyway, and Xet had to collect all the stuff they had on their person. I think we got off lightly, we did get the Orcs in the thick of it and no one got caught or killed. Xet tried to apologize, but we couldn’t accept. It was our fault as well we followed him out, but it was all right in the end. If me or Rhasalis had gotten killed, I’m not sure he would have forgiven himself. After that, we all stuck closer to each other. Rhasalis actually began going out topside when her training allowed for it, acting as a scout. Xet swore to us he’d never be so helpless in such a bad situation ever again, and if he did, he’d have a way to get us all out. Last I heard, he managed to put a whole squad of goblins to sleep and a few Orcs that tried to get inside two years ago. Smiled for three days after that. I really think only then did he actually stop blaming himself.”
Serhis paused, eyes half lidded in thought, saying to himself, “I wonder how they’re doing now…?”
“For the next few ears, nothing really big happened to me, no life or death situation. I kept making traps for the city and continued my services as a cleric of Gakulak. The traps I made, they only caught intruders, I rarely made anything that tried to kill someone. I really didn’t… like making many of the really deadly ones. I also wanted to see more of the surface, even if the first time was a bad experience.”
“But you’re a cleric of Bahamut now. When did that change?” Baous asked.
Serhis lifted up the symbol, looking as the orange light from the fire danced on the ridges of the raised star, “That’s another long story, you sure you don’t feel too sleepy? It’s nearly midnight I think, and it’s almost as long as the other one, maybe longer,” guessed Serhis, looking at the dark night sky and bright moon surrounding their campfire.
Baous shook his head, his fur almost glowing from the reflection form the fire, “I don’t mind.”
Serhis looked at the fire, golden eyes reflecting light, “About a year and a half back…”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Keep up! I don’t want us out in the open more than we have to,” barked the commander. Running though open plains to reach the hills, Serhis kept pace with the rest of the patrol, slightly out of breathe. For the whole time, Commander Sheerwing kept making them all run from one spot to another, during it all, all Serhis could see was the swinging tail and back of the commander and the weasel he rode.
I hope you sit funny for a while, Serhis thought watching him ride over the crest of the hill. You’re the only one with a nice view and feeling the breeze, I’ve only smelled weasel for the whole trip
Serhis and Commander Wral Sheerwing were on strained terms ever since they met. Wral was a Dragonwrought as well, with thick red wings and scales flecked with dusty red.
The first time they met, one of the question he asked was, “Can you fly with those wings?” to which Serhis said no.
“Then what use is your heritage? You are weak, I’m not sure what the overseers were thinking when they assigned your frail ass to us.”
To say first impressions and relations were strained would have been very accurate.
Serhis had volunteered for patrol, to see more of the surface, and was assigned to this group. This group had no healer and Serhis had been assigned to fulfill that role. He didn’t know why Wral was so hostile, but after a week traveling with him, Serhis could make a guess. Wral Sheerwing seemed to revel in his role as group leader, always seemed to have an issue with dominance and wielding authority, an alpha male mentality. Serhis, being a Dragonwrought himself, maybe Wral felt threatened by this newcomer, despite the fact Serhis had no ambition for control and his being a Dragonwrought always held some amount status. His title as commander was more ego than reality, but he lead the group, he made the decisions.
Probably why he’d been assigned to be right behind the leader was so he’d have little time to avoid stepping on weasel droppings.
Serhis had hoped to be assigned to the same one as Rhasalis, but that didn’t happen. The one with him now as certainly not friendly, he’d never met any of them before and they either treated him with indifference or a degree of unpleasantness similar to their leader. He tried being friendly, but the feelings weren’t mutual, his only purpose to them was for healing and nothing more.
Sometimes, people just hate you no matter how kind you are to them.
Reaching the top of the highest hill, they scanned the horizon. It was still morning and a light fog shrouded the lower hills, but they had oriented themselves in the needed direction. Where they were going, Serhis didn’t know. It certainly wasn’t a standard patrol, they’d traveled for four days in a certain direction, likely to an intended destination.
Serhis had asked the others, but they were no help, they didn’t tell him anything, only to stay in line and do your job. Thinking about it now, he should have asked the overseers before he left.
When I get back, I’m asking for a reassignment, he thought.
Cresting the next hill and the sight of red wings and weasel bottom moving away, he could see smoke rising form behind a hill further on.
Wral came to a stop near the top, far back enough that no one over the next hill could see, “Genn, move up,” he said as he motioned his claw to the side.
Genn was the scout of the team, not very talkative or sociable, he was one of those that didn’t want anything to do with Serhis, though that was pretty much how he acted to everyone else. He went to the right side of the hill, establishing line of sight for whatever was making the smoke and keeping low to the ground. A minute passed, the whole group keeping still and avoiding making noise.
Serhis could guess by now whatever they were going to do involved whoever was making that smoke and by the way Wral kept a grip on his spear, as if needing to charge at a moments notice, in no way friendly.
Genn crawled from this spot and then walked over when the hill blocked enough of the view, nodding silently.
Commander Sheerwing gave his own nod, “We will set up camp on the hill behind us. We wait for nightfall.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The night air was chilly, Serhis having to withdraw into the bundle of his cloak to keep warm. They couldn’t risk a campfire, so no warmth was available outside from body heat, Serhis now fully understanding why some of the patrols paid a lot of gold for such a trinket as a warmth amulet, he always thought it was a waste.
Now on an actual patrol, he reassessed that previous thought, among other things now that Commander Sheerwing finally made clear what was to be done.
“Genn, I want you and Havas on the top of the hill at midnight, killing the sentries from a distance, with Val and Certric hidden in the grass in front of you, you with arrows, them with spears. They have only one horseman, so I want you both to skewer him when he rides straight for you. I’ll be riding around to flank anyone else that gets too close,” Wral whispered, looking over the hill in caution.
“Uh, what am I suppose to do?” asked Serhis.
“You can sit here and be useless, that’s what you’re good at, but I’ve got a different idea. Haul your tail over to the north, around the hills, and set down your snares on the little dirt road between the hills there. When they start running, I want none of them getting away. With the river to the east and high hills to the west, they’ll be easily pushed into it. Assuming those little toys you call traps actually work.”
Always have to put in an insult, thought Serhis, as he looked over the hills and at the campfires. He could see maybe five different smoke plumes, which meant a sizeable group, and got a little nervous, “Who are they?”
“Some group of intruders that are in our territory, and that’s all you need to know. When we get back home, with all their heads tied to our belts, we’ll have the hero’s welcome we deserve, taking the initiative to destroy invaders on our lands. Even you might get recognized as helpful, though I doubt it,” grinned Wral, thoughts of glory and the rewards it brings already dancing in his eyes.
“Wait, the overseers didn’t send us to do this, and don‘t you think there are too many of them?” Serhis said.
Wral was irritated by Serhis questions, gave a hard glare, then striding over and grabbing and holding Serhis up by the neck of his robe, “Serhis, your cowardice amazes me. No, they didn’t, but they’ll praise us anyway for destroying some fools that decided it would be a good idea to settle on our territory and can‘t hope to match us. Now, I hope you get it through that thick skull. I am your commander, you do not constantly question my decisions, and you do as I have ordered. Understood?” That last word was spoken with a hostile growl, his claws holding Serhis’ robes. Though his sense of ego was overblown, there was no question that Wral was a stronger and more experienced fighter than Serhis.
“… no sir,” responded Serhis. Wral released him, checked his kit, and readied his mount. Serhis could feel the eyes boring into the back of his head, the others not amused by that display. With that, Serhis took his gear and went out.
He couldn’t feel anger toward Wral or fear, just a cold numbness. Maybe he did overstep his bounds with all those questions, but something kept nagging him. Keeping the hill between him and the enemy, he went north, looking at the night sky and watching a bird fly over the clouds, listening to the wind, anything to take his mind off of questioning his mission. He wasn’t successful.
Enemy. Who are the enemy? And why did Commander Sheerwing think six of them would be enough to overwhelm enough people that needed five fires to cook and keep warm?
Serhis slowed down, moving his wings out of the way and looking behind him. He was out of sight of the group now. If he was caught, he was on his own.
Stifling nervousness, he stepped to move on, but now, without the sound of his running and preoccupied thoughts, he could hear what was over the hill.
Talking. Sounds of wood crackling. Someone making a really bawdy joke in a language he barely understood. Someone calling out. A child answering.
Wait. Child?
He kept listening, hoping he was mistaken, but no, what he heard indicated what was over the hill was no marauding band of brigands, but something else. He made one last glace to make sure he wasn’t watched, then started crawling up the hill.
In the little valley, surrounded by hills and a river to the east, was the makings of a small village being built. It consisted of five cottages being built, with a wooden barricade under construction to the north. A Halfling mother carrying her child to a tent that made up their temporary home. An elf was busy tending to his horse, a group of men near a campfire telling stories and making jokes. They were armed, yes, but only with crude hammers, scythes meant more for grain than men, and spears that looked to have been rejects of a blacksmith. The elf, likely the leader, was armed in leather armor and carried his own blade, but he looked old, the firelight showing the age on his face, even in the dim moon light, and a walk suggesting he’d suffered one too many war injuries. The armed men looked more to be an emergency militia, more farmers and craftsmen than soldiers, a few as aged as the elf, in their respective species, and more than a few lucky to even know how to hold their weapons, more youthful pride than sense. Serhis crawled back down, robes staining in the grass and kept moving to the next hill that overlooked the path, keeping out of sight.
This would be no battle. Impending massacre would be a more appropriate title.
The good thing that made Serhis popular cleric for Lehaskeral was his sense of empathy, always knowing when someone was carrying pain that they were trying to conceal, and lifting it from them or just making it easier for themselves to carry.
The bad thing was that it made him care about just about everyone else, at odds with typical Kobold xenophobia, giving him a high view of life that mixed with the Kobold sense of duty.
And right now, those two values clashed the center of his mind and soul.
This isn’t right. We don’t need to kill them, do we? Maybe we can just drive them out.
But they are on our land. Do they know that? I could ask them…
No, I’m not sure they speak Draconic, and I’m really sure I’d mess up whatever I wanted to say. Assuming they don’t shoot me on sight.
They can’t stay here. It’s right on the main route to Xenam, and if we lose that, we lose access to the Kobold city with the only supply of copper for dozens of kilometers. And if they find Kobolds out here, they’ll likely send for a professional mercenary group, we’ll be cut off for sure.
Can I willingly set traps that would kill people who are just running away?
Can I bring myself to slaughter the defenseless, even if my commander orders it?
But… they don’t deserve to die.
But… my duty is to Lehaskeral.
Serhis sat on that hill, his wings fluttering in the breeze of the night, cold forgotten, as he decided his fate. If he simply didn’t set the traps, if he let the ones that didn’t fight get away, he would endure ridicule and punishment for letting them get away. Or worse, if it was found he willing did so. There was nothing he could do for the ones that did stay and fight. If he did lay the traps, he’d have to face his guilt for all his life, and his memories.
He had little to gain with any choice, but would lose much regardless.
He sat on that hill and watched the village, and let fate continue.
The village in the making turned in for the night. Children rushed back from their bath in the river, a human woman in long robes walking along the path back into the village with a basket of herbs, men and women wishing each other good night as they went to their tents. He didn’t have line of sight were the commander would attack. He wouldn’t need to.
A shout echoed over the hills, turning into a scream, then silence. Genn had a reputation for being quick with a bow. People burst out of their tents in shock, then in panic as they realized they were under attack. Wral must have gotten vindictive, as arrows lit on fire landed on tents and incomplete cottages. Serhis could see the old elf mount up, adjusting the leather armor that was put on too hastily, aided by the woman that was carrying the herbs, and ride off to the battle Serhis could not see. At that point, he didn’t wish to see anymore. He turned away from the village, sat down, and closed his eyes. He could still here the screaming, either by wounds or by panic, and the brief clash of metal as weapons crossed. At least with the screaming, he knew people were getting away, the shouting carrying along the path, then further away. At least they would survive the night.
When silence returned, Serhis turned to face the shadows of the fleeing settlers, and awaited fate’s punishment. He felt a hand clasp his shoulder, and turned to face his commander that would rip him a new one, only to look into the face of a female human.
She looked at him with a calm face, the same human that carried the herbs, then the armor for the old elf, and spoke in an strong voice that all he could determine in her words were you, not, and others.
Serhis shook his head, took shocked to have any other response. Why isn‘t she angry, shouldn’t she be trying to kill him, they know Kobolds are attacking, right?
She gave a nod, as if understanding something, turned back to the village and strode forward with a purpose. Serhis’ mind was blank as she walked away. She disappeared behind the hill, the sounds of battle reaching roar, and he couldn’t help but find out what happened to her.
He went into the village, taking the short path to the battlefield. He tried to ignore the burned tents along the way, not daring to look if someone had still been inside.
What he did see was the wounded splayed around, the old elf thrown off his horse sometime during the fight, bloodied, but still breathing. He saw the rest of the patrol, badly hurt from the fighting, not even able to stand. He saw his commander, thrown off his own mount, using his lance as support for legs that wouldn’t hold him.
He saw her, as she declared in Draconic, who she was, what has happened, and what will happen.
“I am Helena Orn Rhastrom, follower of the Platinum Dragon, truce maker in the Siege of Vi Haris, victor against the lord of the Pirian Mountain, Sannograd, and this settlement is under my ward. This battle is meaningless, any deaths today pointless, and I aim to create a ceasefire from this point. No fatalities have occurred this night, though possessions have been destroyed, but I will not brook any further aggression. You,” she pointed at Serhis, “Tend to the wounded,” before moving to the aid of the elf.
Serhis couldn’t do more than obey, hastily moving to stabilize the more seriously injured, only to discover he couldn’t use his powers. He tried his best to use a healing spell, but to no avail, and as he wondered why, deep down, he knew he had fallen out of favor of Gakulak for his inaction. He had to make do with bandages and the few potions he had, completely numb, and as he reached Wral, his mind finally started moving again. The Siege of Vi Haris was a battle which involved a surface city and an army of Kobolds to the west, the death toll high on both sides, despite no progress, which did end in a truce, a tense one that still held today. What was more shocking was her stating she was one who brought the downfall of Sannograd, a white dragon, not some young wyrmling, but an established adult, lord of the Kobold city underneath the mountain.
She listed those incidents with Kobolds in mind, stating she was both wise and powerful. As he expended his last reserve healing Wral, his commander tightly gripped his lance, Wral’s eyes burning for the need to continue the fight, but he held his ground. Wral might have been fueled entirely on ego and bravado, but he was no fool, attacking now would likely be the death of him and his men.
Helena finished stabilizing her last patient, then turned to face the group of kobolds, “What transgression has this settlement committed that demands such hostile action?”
“You’re on the territory of the city of Lehaskeral, and you are trespassers, thieves, stealing our land!” snarled Wral.
“So this land is claimed by the Kobolds,” Helena said, then repeated in Common to the men of the village, “We did not know this area was claimed, and there are no indications it was claimed by anyone. First, to establish this ceasefire, both parties will lay down their arms, agreed?”
Wral looked as if he might have objected, but thought better of it, begrudgingly casting down his lance, and ordered his men to follow suit.
Helena commanded the villagers to put down their own weapons, some men looked to have reservations about it, but soon no one carried a weapon in their hands.
Helena strode forth and Wral also went forward, the two parties listening intently to what could be heard.
“I want everyone gone from here, this is our land, and we won’t give it up without a fight,” demanded Wral.
Helena replied in the same forceful tone, “And what of the people you’ve terrorized tonight? They have lost their possessions and did not deserve this act.”
“And so? They wouldn’t have cared if we did tell them this is our territory.”
“Maybe, but perhaps if we wanted to purchase your land, would you accept?”
“No, this is ours, and we have fought hard for it, and we won’t give it away for some shiny trinkets. No deal.”
Helena looked forcefully at Wral, “Would you accept them on your land if they agreed to pay a tax? You would still own the land, but they would pay with some of their surplus, and this area could be used as a trading outpost for your city, but the people here would govern themselves.”
Serhis voiced his opinion, “It sounds reasonable sir. We are not using much of the surface anyway, and the possibility of a trading outpost here would be of great benefit.”
Wral shot Serhis a harsh glare, but turned back to Helena, “It has merit, but I’ll have to talk to my overseers about this.”
She nodded, then turned to the villagers. Some that had fled had come back, watching the negotiations, and the opposing party, with caution. Translating the deal, some voiced their own opinion.
“Taxes?! To them?! How do we know they won’t take everything next time?”
“What about the stuff they burned? What about that?”
“To hell with this! Just kill them, they don’t look like they can stand much more.”
Helena held up her hand, and everyone was silent, and responded, “We will agree to a fair rate, and with compensation for our loses. And if you kill them now, these six will be soon replaced with sixty, and there is no benefit from that,” she turned back to Commander Sheerwing, holding up two fingers, “Two percent of the surplus.”
“Not enough, ten percent!” said Wral, clearly aiming to get the best of the deal, even without the overseers involvement.
“Four, and you’ll pay back for damages caused tonight.”
“Seven, but we get a say in how this place is run,” Wral’s authoritarian streak making a return.
“Five, and in return for taxes, pledge an oath to defend the people, and use your might to hold this ground. You would be in charge of defensive planning, where a watch can be established and runners can be sent to your city. It would also be in your best interest to provide to these people supplies and labor to establish this place so it may produce quickly and fruitfully.”
Wral pondered the proposal, but Serhis could tell he liked how this was heading. And realized how Wral had been masterfully played.
Even though they would be paying taxes, it was essentially for professional protection against any marauding bands, but Wral would see it as protection for a significant investment and source of income by way of taxing and trade. Any assaults here would be relayed to Lehaskeral, giving them time to prepare, and a military outpost here would cement the route to Xenam. Giving all defensive layout planning to Wral not only stoked his ego, but ensured any assault would be blunted by heavy amounts of traps instead of lives, and the immediate boost in development would mean the villagers would have homes quickly and be ready for the farming season much sooner.
The old elf spoke in a worried tone, “Miss Rhastrom, I’m not sure we can trust having these Kobolds defend us.”
Helena spoke in a measured voice, “Those sixty Kobolds that would have attacked us can now be stationed with us in defending this land.”
Evidently, Serhis wasn’t the only one who realized this, as the elf kept silent.
Serhis kept his snout shut, both by personal will and by awe of the diplomatic solution.
Wral, after some thought, gave his response, “I still need to talk with the overseers, but I think something like this wouldn’t be hard to manage.” It was that same tone when Wral talked about glory and triumph, no doubt he was thinking he’d be lauded for his “initiative”.
He beckoned the patrol to move back home, walking next to his wounded mount rather than risk riding.
As Serhis repacked his healing kit, a cold, empty feeling surrounded him. He had lost the favor of his god, and when he got back, such a thing wouldn’t be easy to hide, as he regularly was needed to strengthen the workers, pass blessing, and tend wounds. He’d be a pariah all too easily, as Wral would come to wonder why the villagers had escaped unharmed, and would make the connection, rather than thinking Serhis had simply failed in his task.
“We have one more condition,” he heard from behind him, “I ask one of your number stay with me for a year, as an act of good will, as a marking that we both have committed to this cause, and that cooperation can be attained. Your healer would be of great benefit,” Helena requested.
Wral almost wanted to reject, but hearing that it would be Serhis, the objection died in his throat, and a small smirk took its place.
“Accepted.”
Serhis didn’t need to think much about what motivated that and didn’t mind. It meant one more year before his failure was found.
Serhis stood where he was, on top of the hill, watching the rest move on, til they crested one last hill and was gone. He turned, and faced hostile and angry faces. Save one.
Helena came forward and extended her hand, saying aloud for all to hear, “I know what you have done, little one, and what you have not. You refrained from causing injury to others, halted from causing pain to others that would have died fleeing. You wear the symbols of the god Gakulak, but what you are does not reflect those symbols. Something tells me this is true.”
Serhis couldn’t understand some of it, but he understood the meaning in full, as he collapsed to his knees out of mental exhaustion. She meant to spare him the torment of the villagers by saying that aloud, and could only say, “I’ve made a mistake. I’ve forsaken my duty to my commander, to my people. What use could I possibly be to you? I have no power anymore, and you’re a far better healer than me. Even as a hostage, my life means little now.”
He bowed his head down low, depression sinking in, but Helena spoke again, “What use is a life that can spare others pain? Plenty, I have to say. If you have a duty, make it a service to kindness, to the well being of your people, if not to it’s loyalty,” Helena sat down in a crouch, “You still have power, you still have wisdom, I’m not sure what exactly I know how to help, but I will.”
Serhis looked to his side and put his claws on his holy symbol. Hesitating, he pulled, the string snapping, and dropped it into the grass, “Not much use now, but… how did you know about me?”
Helena patted him on the head, a gesture of comfort, “Herbs grow wild on these hills, and I usually meditate away from everyone else, and the language of Draconic softly spoken is an abnormality here. Come on, I’m sure there are some things you can help out now.”
Serhis lifted his head, and saw past Helena to the crowd, some were still angry, but all had softened. What Helena had said meant a lot to them, “You would have made a good cleric of Bahamut, your sense of mercy is something lacking in Kobolds, and many others, I’m sorry to say. Perhaps you still can be, I hope, if you are willing to listen.”
A cleric of Bahamut? He’d heard about the Platinum Dragon in his teachings, and though the Kobold gods were to be offered the highest respected, both he and Tiamat, arch rivals, were to be held in high regards, among others. His clerical training could still be of use, true. Is this what I want?
He looked to Helena as she gave a closed eyed smile and she still extended her hand to him, but now with both hands. In her palm, a silver star of the North Wind.
Serhis looked at the small pendant, and shook her hands, clasping it between hand and claw.
“I accept what you can teach me.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Star dangled in front of Serhis, watching it spin in the light wind as the light danced on it.
“In a week, a small caravan form Lehaskeral, with enough supplies for the villagers and a small group of guards and engineers. It was tense, a lot of mistrust had to be worked through, but Helena smoothed over the rough spots. In a month, a palisade had been set up with enough houses for everyone. Helena deemed it safe for her to move on, she did protected the settlement as a favor for the old elf. His name was Falentier, I think. For the whole year, she taught me what it meant to be a cleric of Bahamut,” continued Serhis, as he put back the silver pendant.
“We went to so many different places. The Arcanum Scarred Mountains, the flowing plains of Welstat, the floating castle ruins of Holdite. We went to heal people torn apart by war, beset by the plague, or to protect someone. The whole time, I think Helena was searching for something. I’ve been meaning to ask her when we met again, but it slipped my mind. After that year, we went back to that settlement. The peace had held. Apparently, nearly getting pillaged twice by bandits certainly made them work together. From there, me and Helena parted ways. I wouldn’t have minded staying with her longer, but she told me she needed to journey alone for a while. From there, I went back to Lehaskeral. Rhasalis nearly choked me to death in a hug when I saw her again and Xet told me what happened for the whole year I was gone. I don’t know about Commander Sheerwing, but I don’t really care. The priests weren’t happy with my choice of changing my deity, but they couldn’t do much. They really didn’t care when I recounted all my journeys, about other Kobold cities they didn’t have contact with, mineral rich areas, and similar information. I stayed for a week, but, after a year of walking the surface, I felt so… confined. I announced my intent to explore the surface more, and from the wealth of information they received from my previous trip, the overseers didn’t object. It was weird leaving home again, Xet was confused, since I only just got back, but he wished me good luck. Rhasalis made me promise to come back. After that, it was just months of wandering around, until I met up with you,” finished Serhis, wondering how late it was and stifling a yawn.
Baous looked like he was half ready to fall down asleep, but always had that look of concentration as he listened, “So, you left home, just like that?”
Serhis shrugged, “I guess. I missed home that whole year away, but after that, home really didn’t feel like it should have. I don’t think I could have handled taking orders I would have objected to again, anyway. But… I still don’t really know what to do out here. There’s these rumors we need to investigate, sure, but, after that, I don’t know.” Serhis laid down on his bedroll, “Maybe we can go finding furry kobolds when we’re done,” he said playfully.
Baous pulled up his bed covers, “Yeah, and maybe one day you’ll let me see Lehaskeral or something, a whole underground city.”
“Maybe. It’s getting really late now. Good night, Baous,” Serhis said as he started to nod off.
“Good night, shaved kobold,” muttered Baous.
Seems he couldn’t resist one last jab.
Serhis flapped his wings, blew out the fire, and watched the North Star in the sky as he laid down and slept.
