Brand did look for Kreet for days. Weeks in fact.

After the Mind Flayer was dead, its minions scattered – some even managed to get out of the labyrinth of caverns alive. Others fell to the kobolds and their traps. Fortunately the kobolds were well-disposed towards Karl and what remained of his party for having killed the Big Fire Person. Brand was able to talk with them and the kobolds helped them bring Karl’s son and the rest out of the tunnels safely, though when they reached the mouth of the caverns Brand did not continue with them.

Instead he stayed with the kobold clan, learning more about them as they helped him to search for his missing friend. They found the body of the Mind Flayer readily enough, but the pit ended in nothing but corpses and stalagmites. There was no river – in fact there was no exit at all. It was, as far as he or his little friends could tell, impossible that her body was not there. Yet it was not.

Even as he gave up hope of finding his friend’s body, he honored her memory by staying with the little kobold clan, which prospered under his guardianship. He taught them many things, not least of which was the art of compromise and diplomacy. But he also taught them fighting skills. The next time a band of adventurers were seen lurking around the kobold’s home, Brand was there to intercede. Neither the adventurers nor the kobolds came to any harm, and rumors began to spread among Adventurers about a growing group of tough but friendly kobolds – something unheard of prior to Brand’s presence – lurking somewhere in the depths of the underground.

Karl returned to his wife, of course, child unharmed and unaware of what had happened. Under his care, Vosa recovered nearly fully, with only some slight scarring as evidence of the attack. He took over the duties of the Cleric Quint, who went into seclusion after the incident. Some say he moved into a run-down shack in some woods not too far from Brand’s new home in the caverns.

And in the Wicked Kobold tavern, the stories of the dancing Kobold that once worked there grew and expanded to heroic proportions. Eventually Red and Cherry left the town and ventured all the way to the caverns where they met and talked with Brand. They returned with a new kobold in tow, she a young and unusually curious specimen who had practically begged to go. So the Wicked Kobold had a new mascot, but they kept Kreet’s image on the sign that swung outside in memory of their missing friend.

Suddenly Kreet no longer was in the cavern with the Mind Flayer. She was, however, in a cavern. She knew she was far, far away from where she had been. Miles… Years… Decades. She wore armor, and under that she wore a chain mail shirt. She wielded a second-rate but serviceable sword. She had no tail, but she had… Oh my god, she was male! She felt the mustaches that were her trademark under the helm. She was Mekelson. A younger Mekelson, but she was him. She knew his thoughts, she knew his lusts, his dreams, his loves and his hates. A flood of knowledge filled her mind. In an instant she knew the man because she was the man. Knew him and loathed him. The things he had done were horrible. She closed her senses and tried to shut out the vision before her, but she couldn’t. She watched helplessly from the back of the young Mekelson’s mind as he tore through the kobolds in front of him. And they were familiar to her mind. She knew these people, but to Mekelson they were just animals. She watched in horror, unable to stop the images from flowing into her. The thoughts, the sounds, the smells… 

After much too long, she found herself back in the room with the Mind Flayer. She could not look at Mekelson. She couldn’t think of him. She couldn’t stand to be near him. She looked up and saw Karl back away from him as well. But her Master, the paladin Quint’s eyes grew wide in horror. Not at Mekelson, but at the Mind Flayer.

“Don’t do this,” he said, pleading.

“Oh, you want to be next?” said a voice in their heads. “You, the great Paladin? The hero of the battle of the Cairn? The great Quint? You didn’t tell your students about this, did you. You told no one. Why? Don’t you want them to know the truth? You say you serve the great Pelor. But he was not the god you served that day, was he, paladin?

Suddenly she was whisked away to another time, another place. She wanted to stop it. She wanted to shut her eyes – but she had no control over her eyes. They were attached to the optic nerves of a younger Quint. She could not stop hearing, because the sound came from Quint’s ears. What she heard now she couldn’t stop hearing. They were babies. They may have been enemies, but they were babies. She screamed without a mouth at the mind that she was watching. 

"STOP IT! STOP MOVING YOUR ARM! FOR YOUR SOUL’S SAKE, QUINT, STOP IT!”

But he could not – would not stop. He didn’t want to stop and he couldn’t hear her. She was in his future, not his now. She knew his mind in a way no one should know another’s mind. She knew why he was doing this. His friends had been slaughtered around him during the battle. The enemy had used evil magics, evil tactics, evil… evil… EVIL. Now he was divine justice, and he was unstoppable. Nothing they could do could stop him, because he had the power of the War God behind him. He would continue until every green-skinned, fanged maw was silent forever.

And Kreet knew what would happen. She knew the carnage he had wrought that day. Not one left alive. All as revenge for his own friend’s lives. He was Revenge Incarnate. Worse, she knew what would happen when he was done. She knew what would happen when the blood-rage left his eyes and he beheld what he had become. The years of loathing and self-mutilation he would endure. All knowing that what he was doing now… right now… could never be undone. These innocents could never be restored. They were lost forever.

And then she was back again. In her own body. She put her hands over her eyes, crying for Quint’s soul as much as for the loss of all those he had killed.

Quint was allowed to fall to his knees in front of Brand. They all looked at him with revulsion. Even Mekelson looked horrified at what the Paladin had done.

“My God man, at least the kobolds were attacking me!”

Quint’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t say anything. He looked at Kreet, but she couldn’t return the gaze. She was failing, she knew. The path of Pelor insisted she find the Good, help the Needy. But there was no help for this man. She had called him Master once. That she could never do again. She looked back at Mekelson. He was a fiend, but compared to Quint…

“Oh Quint,” she said, still not able to look at him. “What are we doing here? We should never have come.”

“No,” said the voice in her head. “You especially should not have. I didn’t want you! When I surveyed this other man’s mind, I saw his loathing for the woman who drove you away from your Monastery. If I could snatch the child away and bring it back here, the father must surely come. But you? You are nothing. You shouldn’t be here. You should be back at your tavern, spilling beer. These… I can use these! I would send you back, but there is one here who still holds affection for you. This ‘Brand’. And he has his own talents, I know. His rage burns hot.”

The Mind Flayer turned to Brand. “You may speak.”

Suddenly Brand fell to his knees beside Quint as if released from a self-imposed restraint.

“Kreet!” he cried, but then he ran to the dais, skirting the pit and knelt in front of the Mind Flayer.

“Please, Lord. Let me die. Don’t let her see. I beg you. Please, let me die first!?”

“I am not a cruel master, young Cleric. You may die,” the creature said with what felt like sincere compassion in her mind.

Brand turned around, facing the pit.

“BRAND!” she screamed. “NO!”

The man she had known and loved stepped down from the Dias. He looked to the Flayer, who nodded, and stepped around the yawning hole.

“Kreet,” he said, kneeling in front of her. “The Lord is true. So goddamnedly true. I’ve done things. I hated them so much for what they did to you. HATED them. That Vosa most of all. She knew what she was doing. She broke us apart, Kreet. Put you through that damned Tribunal. But…”

He looked back at the Mind Flayer.

“He twists things, Kreet. In my head. Oh gods, please let me die before you see. You were always so good. I don’t want you to see me. Not like he does it. Kreet, I am ashamed to death. I would rather die than for you to see what I’ve done this last year. I love you Kreet, in my way. Scales and tail and goofy snout, I love you. I screwed up Kreet. I screwed up bad. PLEASE let me die. Please, remember me like you did… before.”

The voice began again in her head, such a silky, caring voice, “What would you like, little kobold? I’ll let you decide. Your Lord is a merciful Lord, little kobold. You can decide. He can live and you can know the truth, or he can die and you can live in ignorance of who he really is. Which do you prefer? I promise to abide by your wishes, little kobold. He is a Cleric, true, but a minor Cleric. Nothing like this one you brought with you! I can lose him.”

“Brand! I can’t let you die! I just found you again!”

“No, Kreet, this isn’t me! What I’ve done… it’s not me anymore!”

“She’s made her decision, Brand. Let us begin.”

“NO!” Brand screamed and ran towards the pit. The tendrils on the Mind Flayer never stopped their patterns, Kreet noticed.

“BRAND! DON’T!” she called after him but he wouldn’t stop. She looked away, not able to watch him commit suicide.

But inches from falling into the pit, Brand stopped.

“No Brand. This is not what she wants.  We must give her what she wants, Brand.”

“Wait,” Kreet said, standing up and walking forward. “I have a better idea. Lord, show him… me.”

“You, little kobold? Your sins are puny. What would be the point. He has so much to show you. No, let’s not. Your life is boring.”

She took hold of Brand’s hands and looked up at his wild eyes, ready to commit suicide just moments ago but prevented.

“Brand, you think I’m so good. I’m not good, Brand. No one is. We have good and bad within us, but we are constantly in transition from one to the other. We flow, Brand. Like a river, we are never the same person twice. The person I am today is not the person I was yesterday, nor the person I will be tomorrow. You are the same.”

“Yes, Brand,” said the voice. “You may speak. But step away from the pit, please.”

“Kreet. You don’t know me. I don’t want you to know me. I’m not who you think I am.”

“Of course you’re not,” she laughed. The sound was odd in the chamber, with all of the eyes on them, but she didn’t care anymore. She was holding hands with Brand, and, for a moment, that’s all she cared about.

“But Brand, your mistake is that you think you know me. You don’t Brand. I want your Lord to let you know what I am, who I am. Then, maybe, you’ll know that your sins are forgivable. We all have sinned, Brand. We can’t help it. We aren’t gods. We sin.”

“Yes, you do. Let’s look at your Kreet, Brand. Your beloved little kobold. She’s a killing beast, Brand. Behold…”

“But Karl, you must be exhausted. We have no time to rest and replenish our spells either,” Kreet protested.

“You’re right Kreet, I’m done. My power is all but gone. That Blade Wall took all of it. But you have more Kreet. A lot more. I felt it in you. You haven’t trained, so your spells are still low level, but you have gained in power more than you know. I need that power, Kreet. I need it now, before we face whatever is waiting for us with Brand. Kreet, take my hand. You can give me the power I need.”

“To do what, Karl? What’s so important?”

Karl looked back to the body of their dead Master.

“Resurrection!? You can do that!?”

Karl shook his head. “No. I can’t do Resurrection, and you haven’t the power even if I could. But I can Raise the Dead. He’ll be unconcious, but he’ll be alive.”

Mekelson spoke up then, “Karl, even if you can do this, it will probably gain us nothing. Whatever is in here could just tap him on the head and he’d be dead again, and then even Kreet would have nothing left. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Karl looked at Kreet. “He’s got a point. You’ll have almost nothing left yourself.”

Kreet looked back at her Master’s body. Then she took Karl’s hand.

She felt the power leave her and enter Karl. She assumed from there it entered Quint. Through the link, she could feel Karl talking with the soul of her Master. Asking, begging, then commanding him to return to life. That was a bit of a stretch, she thought. She couldn’t imagine commanding her old Master to do anything. But it worked. Breath returned to the body in front of them and Karl opened his eyes.

“Damn stubborn man. He just wants to rest for all eternity. Jeeze, lazy bastard!”

“Karl! You did it, you brought him back!”

Karl looked at the man and kicked at the shiny armor. “Damned if I know why. You got anything left Kreet? Even just a little healing spell will at least get him concious.”

Kreet shrugged and tried anyway. She managed to eek out a little healing spell. The Paladin’s eyes opened.

“Dammit Karl, it was nice there.”

“Welcome back, Master Quint,” Kreet said.

“Don’t bother to thank me or anything,” Karl said, standing up.

“Oh, alright. Thank you for bringing me back to life, Karl,” the Master said, a smile on his face.

“Can you stand?” Mekelson asked him.

“Not in this metal coffin. Get me out of it and I might be able to sit at least.”

The three managed to get the man out of his armor.

“Sorry I can’t help more, Karl. But I think you’re right to continue on. Whatever is in there won’t stop. If it can control a demon of that power, it’s got to be stopped. Leave little Paulie here with me. I’m better than nothing.”

Karl did as his master bid. “I don’t suppose it would let us rest and get our spells back,” he said to Quint as he laid Paulie on his lap.

“Sorry, no,” said a voice in their heads. “You are ready to join me now. Come if you want to live.”

From the far side of the huge space, she saw figures walking calmly out and to either side from beside a passage to an inner chamber. The figures were armed to the teeth and of various races – some of which Kreet recognized only by pictures in books.

Kreet sighed and stood up. She took the hand of Karl on one side, and looked up at Mekelson on the other.

“You know, I still hate you,” she said, though her outstretched hand indicated differently.

“Back in my day we stacked kobold bodies 5 high to use as sandbags,” Mekelson said, but took her hand.

She recovered quickly, though the pain in her hand was excruciating. She had no time to figure out what was going on behind her. Karl was down and likely bleeding to death. Mekelson and Quint were on their own for now. She gritted her teeth and broke the arrow in her hand in half against the stone floor, screaming at the pain but knowing she was Karl’s only hope. She drew the shaft through her hand then crawled to where Karl lay. He was breathing, conscious still, though he could barely follow her through his agony. He had managed to get the arrow out of his leg, but the one in his chest remained. She didn’t like the sound coming from it as he breathed either.

Then he did something truly unexpected. He touched her with his hands. She felt the power enter her from his touch. Despite his obvious pain, he was healing her, with her meager hand wound!

Nevertheless, it worked and worked fast. Her hand was restored within a few seconds. She looked at him, and he glanced towards where the arrow still protruded, bubbling where the shaft broke his skin whenever he breathed. She gripped the shaft with both hands and pulled.

The arrowhead came out, but it left a bloody tear in its wake. Karl had no more breath for screaming and he passed out mercifully. But with the arrow gone, Kreet now could do her own work on her friend.  She closed her eyes and cast the most powerful healing spell she knew. The Healing Prayer was designed to heal up to six allies a small amount. As she prayed, she tried twisting the spell to do something more. She tried to make it heal a single target six times as fast. It was breaking the rules and wouldn’t work, but she brushed that aside. She had Faith. Faith in Pelor. He would not allow something as trivial as spell-casting rules to stop his will, and this surely was his will. She had faith, she knew it would work. It had to work.

Then she opened her eyes. In front of her Karl’s wounds were closed. His eyes opened, and a smile began until he looked behind her. His eyes betrayed fear, and Kreet spun around. The demon was charging directly at the two Clerics. For a split second, she saw the two figures in armor lying on the floor beyond. One was moving, trying to stand. The other was not.

But the fiery eyes drew her own eyes back to it as smoke blew from wounds, billowing behind it. It roared, and she was driven deaf as it came, unstoppable, at the two Clerics. She had no time to cast anything, to pray, to think. She looked back to Karl, sadness in her eyes. She began to say “I’m sorry.” for the last time. But Karl wasn’t laying there waiting for death. He had risen, arms to both sides, head bowed. She had no idea what he was doing. He looked like he was making himself a sacrifice to the marauding demon.

Then, with no more than a second before the demon was on them, a magical wall of blades appeared directly between them and the demon. Kreet could feel wind of the magical slashing blades and the power flowing from Karl to the Wall. And it was huge. Though it tried, the demon had too much momentum. It could not avoid passing through. It’s attempts to stop served one purpose though, the meat that came through was blessedly diverted to one side of Kreet and Karl. It didn’t even have time to scream.

“Very good. Wall of Blades. Powerful spell. Impressive. You will be a welcome addition,” said a voice inside her head, as Karl slumped to his knees. “Well worth the effort to bring you to me and one fire demon. You may proceed.”

Karl helped Kreet back to her feet and they staggered to where Mekelson and Quint were. Mekelson was kneeling and had Quint’s helm off, but the Paladin wasn’t moving.

“Could have used you, boy,” Mekelson said, breathing hard but with nothing but sadness in his words.

Karl didn’t say anything, but put his hand over Quint’s head.

“He’s dead,” he said plainly. Kreet looked at the body of her Master and back to Karl.

“Karl, we have your boy. We can go back now.”

“I don’t think so,” Karl said, looking away from the body. That cave-in…“

"We could climb over it. It doesn’t go all the way to the ceiling,” Kreet pointed out.

“With the boy? Over that rubble?” Mekelson said, still breathing hard. “It would be tough, but possible.”

“And there’s something still here,” Karl said. “Something besides Brand. I doubt it would let us go so easily.”

Bob’s eyes opened and seemed to burn with an internal fire that mimicked the flames in the Brazier above their heads. The creature stood up, half again as tall as a man and bellowed with a sound that made Kreet put her hands to the sides of her head. When she looked back up, it was charging. The Paladin and the Knight drew their blades and looked hopelessly small.

Karl dropped to one knee and cast a spell on both Mekelson and Quint. Kreet didn’t recognize it, but she was sure it was some sort of protection spell. She considered what she should do, then noticed Mekelson stepping away from Quint, forcing the charging monster to choose. It continued directly towards the Paladin and Kreet made her decision. She cast Shield of Faith on her old Master.

As it neared, and she looked up from her casting, Kreet saw the thing wielded a wicked, gigantic chain-linked flail. As it neared, it swung the thing in a horizontal arc, the spikes on the end-ball sparking across the floor and impossible to avoid for the Paladin. However, instead of backing away, Quint ran towards the charging demon at the last minute, his sword poised to impale. The arc of the flail was such that Quint was inside it and he jumped over the rushing chain as if it were a child’s play-rope.

Meanwhile, Mekelson was circling around the thing.  Kreet was preparing another spell when she heard something sharp next to her. She looked that direction and saw an arrow skittering away.

“Karl! Archers on the left!” she cried, just in time to see another arrow fly between the two of them. She could no longer watch what was happening to the demon as she ran to the side to avoid the arrows and cast another spell at the two archers that stood upon a ledge some 20 feet off the ground but quite some distance from where they stood. She randomized her direction, but kept coming at the archers as she heard Karl yell something behind her, but she didn’t stop to see what he was yelling about. Finally she felt she was in range and she dropped sliding headfirst to the ground, her hands outstretched in front of her as she cast Sacred Flame at the archer nearest.

He went down with a yell, but the other fired an arrow straight at her. She ducked her head down, hoping it would fly over. In that moment a flash lit up the world. Had she not had her head down, she would have been blinded. But the arrow did not pass over her head – it struck her squarely on one horn, twisting her head around hard. She instinctively felt the horn where the arrow had connected and noticed the notch there, but she had no time to care. Her horns weren’t important, but her position prone on the floor provided a perfect target. She looked up to see there was only one archer now, and he was just now staggering back to his feet and drawing his bow again. The other had been incinerated by Karl’s Bolt.

She felt like she was moving in molasses as she struggled to her feet, but the archer was faster and she knew she was a sitting duck. But he didn’t aim at her. He was aiming at a spot behind her and he loosed the arrow before she could even think about casting any further spells. She heard the impact behind her, a soft, sickening THWACK that was metal-on-meat. She spun around and saw the shaft protruding from Karl’s chest as he dropped to his knees.

She ran back towards him, not neglecting to dodge randomly to the sides as the remaining archer was surely drawing his bow again. She stole a glance toward the armored figures and Bob the Demon. She saw only a flash but it looked like a figure in steel – Mekelson surely – was actually hanging onto it’s back, his arms around it’s neck while a figure in chrome lay underneath it as it’s flail swung around wildly.

She looked back to Karl and another arrow appeared like magic in his leg. “Karl!” she cried as he screamed again, the pain of the new arrow too much to bear. But she realized she couldn’t do anything for him while the archer remained. In one movement, she stopped her dash for her friend, now bleeding on the ground. Her momentum on the smooth stone surface kept her moving while one hand pressed hard against the floor to spin her back around to face the archer. With the other hand she put her sunglasses over her own eyes. She stood from her spin and saw the archer draw his bow back, aiming directly at her. She raised her hands, not to defend, but to attack. She wielded the forbidden spell. If ever there was a time to use it, it was now.

She wasn’t sure if the sunglasses would be enough, but she had no choice. She had to get rid of that archer. As she felt the power of Pelor surge through her and out of her hands, she closed her eyes only at the last possible second. She couldn’t afford to miss. It would be better to be blind that to miss. She saw the archer’s eyes go wide just before she closed hers.

The power was more than she had ever summoned in her life and she felt it must burn her to the core, but then a pain like a thousand hammers struck her right hand. She screamed and fell back, opening her eyes to see the arrow head protruding an inch away from her face from through her palm. She passed out momentarily.

“Thanks Kreet,” Mekelson said, taking the skin from the little kobold. “Stupid of us to come unprepared.”

Kreet laughed, “Hey, I’m the one still dressed like this! Think I can seduce the demon?”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Quint said, taking the water from Mekelson. “Say, do you want a weapon? I’ve got an extra dagger here if you’d like.”

“No thank you, Master,” she responded. “I use my claws and teeth. I never drop them.”

“Fair enough. Well, let’s move on.”

Hours later they found themselves deep in the caverns. They’d long since left the upper chambers that Kreet recognized behind and were relying on Ka’Plo’s maps now.

Finally they topped a rise in the ever-narrowing path and saw a flickering glow coming from ahead.

“Shhh!” Karl said when he saw it, but Mekelson shook his head.

“They know we’re here Karl. They couldn’t possibly not.”

“He’s right, Karl,” Quint said, putting his helm back on. “This will be no surprise attack. Watch for traps or hiding places where they might get around behind us. Mekelson, are you ready?”

Mekelson nodded behind his own helmet.

“Okay. Kreet, you and Karl have been trained. Mekelson and I will be the Tanks. You help us as you can. If you can’t, try and get a ranged attack in on any of them you see. If they have archers, ignore them unless they target you. We’re proof against most all arrows. Mekelson, the demon first, right?”

“Of course. Kill it and the rest should scatter.”

“What about Brand,” Karl asked.

“He’s one of them now, Kreet. You know what to do. But be wary of Paulie. They may use him as a shield.”

A voice came out of the space ahead, it’s mouth unseen but the voice was unmistakable.

“Don’t be stupid, Master Quint. The child is behind you. Behind that stalagmite formation. Go ahead, Karl. Go get him. He’s fine.”

Karl looked at the others. Quint nodded towards the formation and he headed off. Though he took the glowing mace with him, the light ahead was sufficient to make out the shadow that emerged around the corner. It was Brand.

Karl screamed from behind the stalagmites.

“Oh be quiet Karl. He’s not dead. He’s just been Held and then the spell bound. It will be released in, oh, about another 6 hours I expect.  What he’ll open his eyes up to then is up to you.”

Karl came out from behind the formation holding his boy, apparently sleeping.

“Brand, why did you do this? What’s happened to you?!” Kreet yelled, stepping out from behind the Paladin.

The figure stopped, it’s face would have been in total shadow to the others, but Kreet saw his face just fine. It was twisted somehow. It howled.

“Kreet!!!? You found her?!” he shouted, backing off the way he had come.

“Brand, she was right in town all the time. If you’d have just stayed around…”

“Kreet!” Brand screamed, and turned back, running out of their sight.

Before she could react, a sound that wasn’t a sound came to their minds.

“The one you know as Brand is with me now. Some of you will be with me soon too. Some of you are good devotees, but your allegiance is misplaced. We will rectify that this day. Some, however, will not.”

Behind them came a deafening roar and all turned to see what was happening. The ceiling was collapsing, and the collapse was spreading rapidly towards them.

“RUN!” Mekelson shouted and led the way, heading towards the flickering light ahead. As they rounded the corner, the collapse behind them stopped and they found themselves inside a huge chamber. The walls fell away to both sides and the ceiling was lost to view. The source of the fire that burned in a huge brazier that hung from the ceiling was unknown, but it did light the cavern as well a huge shape beyond. Brand was no where in sight.

“Now,” said the voice inside their heads, “you must pass my Behemoth. I call him Bob.”

To say they walked stealthily deeper into the caverns would be a lie. The Knight clanged along with all the stealth of a rattling cart and, while the Paladin’s armor was of a finer build and lighter alloy, it was no less noisy. They would not have the advantage of surprise here.

“What about you, Kreet. Have you been continuing your studies?” Karl asked as they tried to ignore the clamor of the other two men.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Not like you mean anyway.”

“I imagine you’ve learned quite a bit as a tavern wench, at least about nature and biology,” Karl said with a halfhearted smile as he continued to look around warily.

Kreet looked down at herself and realized she was still wearing her tavern outfit. Suddenly she wished she had brought other clothes with her.

They soon came to a breakaway path to the right and downwards. Kreet pulled out the map.

“Dead end,” she said, pointing at it.

“We go straight into the depths,” Karl replied with conviction. “My boy has been with them for nearly a full day now. I won’t rest until I’ve got him back.”

“Then onward we go,” Kreet agreed, folding up the map and putting it away.

Every once in a while they would stop and to listen for any signs of life. They’d done this twice before they came to the next major path leading away, again to their right.

“Kreet, are you okay? You look tense,” the Paladin said behind his helm.

“We’re close to where my family lived. That’s all. I don’t hear or sense anything.”

“Another dead end?” Karl asked, gesturing towards the side passage.

“Not really. I don’t need the map for this area. I didn’t think I would remember it, but now that I’m here… the smell of the place… seeing it with my darkvision again… I remember these walls. No, that path circles away but rejoins the main path just before it splits off into two maybe a mile ahead. There’s some side caves down there though. We lived in one for a while.”

Again they resumed their march down the main passage. It remained quite wide and tall, with other paths branching off randomly. It was at one of these that Kreet stopped suddenly, and the others all stopped too.

“Something’s wrong,” she said quietly. “This doesn’t look right. Those boulders weren’t up there before…”

Suddenly something crashed and the boulders she was pointing at fell from their perch on a ledge above them. The four scrambled to get out of the way, Mekelson taking a pretty significant hit as one crashed against him, but his armor deflected most of the impact.

“Mekelson, you alright?” Quint called.

“Bruised leg, but I’m okay.”

“Kreet? Karl?”

“Fine here,” Karl said from the other side of the rock fall.

“Me too,” Kreet said beside him.

Karl and Kreet climbed over the rocks to rejoin the armored pair.

“A trap,” Kreet declared as she looked at where the rocks had fallen from.

“Did we trip it somehow?” Karl asked, holding his glowing mace closer.

“Not this one,” Mekelson said with conviction. “This was activated by somebody. See that piece of wood? Got a rope tied to it. And the rope leads back to that little path. Someone was watching us and pulled it.”

“Doesn’t sound like the sort of thing a demon would do. They wouldn’t waste their time,” Quint said.

“No, it doesn’t. This looks like the work of something else,” Mekelson said, removing his helm and looking straight at Kreet.

“This looks like the work of kobolds to me.”

---

Kreet returned Mekelson’s stare. “Couldn’t be. Ka’Plo said ours was the last clan in here, and he would surely know!”

“It’s been a long time, Kreet,” Karl pointed out. “A new clan could well have moved in by now.”

“Well, it’s a sure bet they know we’re here. Do we try and find them, or go on?” Mekelson asked, standing up and testing his bruised leg.

“Kreet,” Karl said, “I know you’d like to find them, but…”

Kreet shook her head, “Later. They’re not our concern. Let’s get Paulie back as soon as possible.”

Karl nodded, relieved not to have to argue with his friend.

They continued on, now wary for traps. They did see another similar one further on, but they stayed clear of it and it wasn’t triggered.

“No kobold in sight though,” Karl pointed out.

“We can be pretty stealthy when we want to,” Kreet replied sarcastically. “When we’re not following a bunch of iron suits that is…”

Finally they came to a place where the main passage branched off, one heading slightly upward, the other slanting down.

“Down we go,” Kreet said after they’d stopped again.

“We didn’t bring any supplies for this,” Mekelson complained. “Getting pretty thirsty over here. How about you, Quint?”

Kreet frowned at the men. “You should have said so earlier! We must have passed three streams at least, and all the water is good. The last one wasn’t too far back. Wait here, I’ll be back in just a minute.”

She padded back into the darkness behind them and soon found the little trickle of water off the main path just a few feet in a side passage.

“Who?” a voice said as she filled the water skin she had in her pack. It was spoken in Kobold.

“Kreet,” she replied, taking care not to look around. The voice sounded like it came from overhead.

“You go with Big People?”

“I do. We leave Kobolds alone.”

“You go to Fire People? You are Fire People?”

“No. We go to fight Fire People.”

“Oh. That is good. You leave Kobolds alone?”

“We won’t bother Kobolds.”

“That is good. You will kill Fire People?”

“We will try. Fire people have a young one of ours.”

“You will not. Big Fire Person will kill you all. But you leave Kobolds alone, we leave you alone.”

Kreet had to admit the likelihood of that outcome. But at least there was one less faction in the caves that would try to kill them. Probably.

The voice spoke again, growing fainter.

“You stupid Kobold Kreet. Stupid, stupid Kobold. Kreet the dead kobold is stupid…”

She heard another voice join in to the singsong improvised melody as the unseen watchers left.

“Kreet the dead Kobold, stupid stupid Kobold… it sang as it faded. It bothered her most that the tune was rather jolly.