Part II

The goblins had been dead for quite some time. We poked around the bodies to try and find some clues.

“They’ve been dead a month,” Lyrie said.

I was impressed, that was something Herlock Shomes could’ve deduced. Three of the four were sprawled out on the floor and the fourth was pinned to the wall with a spear. Lyrie deduced that one of the doors was used more often than the other. We decided that was the way to go.

Then it hit me and I asked out loud, “Why would the goblins leave their dead lying around if this is the entrance that they use all the time?”

Both Lyrie and Zylena shrugged and looked at me.

“I’m just saying that seems odd,” I said. “And this might not be where the goblins are.”

“They were obviously here at one time,” Lyrie said as she pointed at the bodies. “And my cousins might be here, too.”

It was my turn to shrug and look.

“Can we keep going?” Lyrie asked.

“Wait,” I said. “I can’t leave my familiar.”

Just then Gumdrop flapped his way into the round room. I screamed and hit the deck to avoid its talons. It flew right over me and landed on Zylena’s shoulder. Gumdrop glared at me as I stood back up and dusted off my vest and pantaloons.

“I have my eye on you,” I said to the hawk.

“Now can we go?” Lyrie asked.

“Wait,” I said. “Why is that goblin still standing?”

“Be-cooz of spear,” Zeylena garbled.

“I think it is because of the spear,” I said. “I wonder why?”

I conjured a Mage Hand and grabbed the spear and pulled it out. The dead goblin fell to the floor revealing a word carved into the stone, “Ashaddalon.”

I said it out loud. I liked the way it felt on my tongue.

“Can we go now, or do you want to say wait, again?” Lyrie asked.

I thought about saying it again but decided against making Lyrie mad. She opened the door and peeked around it. I peeked around it, too. And so did Zylena.

I saw nothing. I can’t see in the dark and the space beyond the door was dark.

“Do you see anything?” I asked Lyrie.

“No, just a hallway,” she replied.

I lit my hooded lamp and cast its light down the hallway. There were three doors, one on each side and one at the end of the hallway. We walked down the hallway with Lyrie leading and me bringing up the rear.

When Lyrie reached the first door on the right, she tried to open it, but it was locked. She pulled out a small box from her pack. She opened it to reveal several files and picks, a mirror on a handle, and a pair of scissors sized perfectly for a Hops.

“Here goes nothing,” she said. I watched intently as she used the picks to spring the door’s lock. I need to learn to do that. People keep most of their most interesting things behind locked doors. Unfortunately, whoever lived here did not know that there was only a dusty empty room with a bit of rock debris. As Lyrie and Zylena looked around, I wrote, “Hops was here,” in the dust.

Once they were satisfied that there was nothing else in there, we continued to the next door. It was really interesting as there was a relief of a dragon-like fish on its stone surface. The door was locked.

Zylena said, “Rhed drag goon.”

Lyrie’s little tools were useless against this more sophisticated door. I didn’t hold out too much hope that there would be much behind it except more dust and more rocks. Maybe that’s what the goblins thought were valuable? I might have to experiment with that hypothesis.[1]

We moved to the door at the end of the hallway. Lyrie heard whimpering from behind it.

I dimmed the light from my hooded lantern and Lyrie carefully opened the door. The room was large with a fire pit in the middle. There were two doors and a hallway on the opposite wall of the door we entered. A large cage took up the wall to our left with a big hole in it. There was a bench next to the cage and next to the bench was a pile of blankets where the whimpering came from.

Lyrie walked over to the lump and peeled back the blankets to reveal a kobold. I think I would normally be more alarmed by the sight of such a creature, but this one was pathetic. It stood about one Hops high and was covered in scars both old and new.

“Are you hurt?” Lyrie asked.

“They took him,” the kobold replied.

“Took who?” Lyrie asked.

“Calcryx,” the kobold screeched

“What’s a Calcryx?” I asked.

“Hush, Hops,” Lyrie said. “Who took Calcryx?”

“The goblins took him.”

“Goblins!” I exclaimed. “We’re looking for goblins.”

Lyrie gave me the same glare that grandmom gave me when I blew up her rose bush. I decided I’d try and be quiet for a little while.

“Can you show us where the goblins are?” Lyrie asked.

The little kobold shook its head and said, “Why would anyone want to go there?”

“Maybe, we could help you find Calcryx,” Lyrie said.

“Yes, we can,” I said forgetting that I wasn’t supposed to be talking, but I didn’t get the ‘you blew up my rose bush’ glare from Lyrie.

“You’d do that?” the little kobold asked.

“Yes,” Lyrie said. “So will you show us the way?”

“No.”

“But we could find Calcryx.”

“That would be great,” the little kobold said.

“So, you’ll show us the way?” Lyrie asked.

“No.”

“Do you know anyone who can?”

“Yusdryl could help.”

“Can you take us to Yusdryl?” Lyrie asked.

The little kobold nodded

“What’s your name?”  I asked, not wanting to call him little kobold for the rest of my story.

            “Meepo.”

            I replied, “Nice to meet you Po, me Hops.”

            “Meepo.”

            “Me, Hops.”

            “Me, Lyrie.”

            “Me, Zylena.”

Po cocked his head then shrugged, stood up, and turned toward the door on the opposite side of where we entered. Many conversations I’ve had with people, other than Lyrie, usually end just like that. He led us out of the room.

“Watch what you say in front of the kobold,” Lyrie said in elvish.

My elvish was rusty when I first came to Oakhurst and I had more of a classical knowledge of the language not your everyday conversational elvish. Lyrie’s family, being elven, spoke elvish while at home and I became more fluent as time went on.

“Lyrie is right. We should be careful,” Zylena said in perfect elvish.

“You can talk?” I exclaimed.

“Of course, I can,” Zylena said.

I would need to reassess Zylena’s usefulness to the group.

We were soon amongst more kobolds than you can shake a stick at. As Po walked by each of the other kobolds he kept saying, “Tickle corn.”

Is that corn with feathers instead of kernels? Is it corn that tickles when you eat it?

Po brought us to the largest room we’d been in so far. It was lined with pillars of entwined dragons. I noticed three kobolds patrolling the room as we walked down it toward a throne. The throne had a dragon carved into the top and it had a red key in its mouth. Before the throne stood a regal-looking kobold flanked by two others of her kind.

“Yusdryl, these people want to help us get Calcryx back,” Po said as he bowed to her.

“Really and why would you do that?” Yusdryl asked us.

“The goblins took your Calcryx and my cousins came here a month ago looking for the goblins.”

“Two elves, a human, and a dwarf came through about a month ago,”

“Did they kill the goblins in the round room?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“We will need a map to show us the way,” Lyrie said.

“You can take him,” Yusdryl said as she pointed at Po.

Po shook with fear.

Yusdryl looked at Po and said, “It is your fault that they took him, now you have to help to get him back.”

“What is a Calcryx?” I asked.

“Calcryx is a young white dragon.”

It was my turn to shake with fear.

At the same time, Lyrie said, “We’ll take him,” and Zylena said, “No way.”

The firbolg looked down at Lyrie and asked in elvish, “Do we have to take him?”

“It makes sense,” Lyrie said. “He can control the dragon.”

I looked at the little guy’s scars and asked, “Are we sure of that?”

“Can either of you control a dragon?” Lyrie asked.

Zylena and I both shook our heads no.

“Then it’s settled, Po is coming with us.”

I guess it wasn’t that bad of an idea and it’s nice to have someone around who is my height. I get such a crick in the neck talking to all these tall folk all the time.

            “Lead them to the goblins,” Yusdryl ordered Po.

            I thought Po was going to start crying again. Instead, he bowed to Yusdryl and led us back the way we had come and into the room where we found him and to a hallway on the other side of the room that I hadn’t noticed earlier. The hallway zigged and zagged then ended up in a large dusty room filled with rat droppings. I know that Goblins love dust, but do they love rat droppings, too? Lyrie pointed out that there were tracks from humanoids that went across the room. Po marched us across it, following the tracks, and through another door into a room that was way more interesting than what we’d seen thus far.

            To our right was a dried-up fountain with a dragon. I was beginning to think that whoever built this place needed to work with an interior decorator to get out of their dragon obsession. It’s like they didn’t know what to decorate with and kept going back to dragons. There was a door on the opposite wall and another door to our left. I walked over to the fountain to get a better look. Written in draconian there was the phrase, ‘Let there be fire.’

            “Look at this door, it has writing on it,” Lyrie said from behind me.

            I walked over and looked at it and in draconian it said, ‘Rebuke the dead to open the way.’

            In elvish, I repeated what was written on it.

            “What do you think that means?” Lyrie asked.

            “Maybe if I say it out loud in draconian, something might happen,” I replied.

            “It’s worth a try.”

            In draconian, a language I can speak with a blue dragon accent (the best looking of the dragons, if you asked me), I said, “Rebuke the dead to open the way.”

            The door opened. A candle burned on an altar on the other side of the room. It had to be magical and I wanted it.

            I was halfway across the room before I realized there were sarcophagus on either side. I only noticed them then because skeletons rose out of them. Rose would not be the right word, because they stank and were not sweet-smelling like a rose. It was more like this: The skeletons each emerged from their sarcophagus and towered over me. I ran to the corner to put my back against the wall and threw firebolts at the closest one.

            It kept coming at me seemingly unfazed by the magical fire. It clawed at me and put great gashes across my chest. The next thing I knew, Zylena was right next to me and her touch made the pain go away. I felt invigorated. One more firebolt took down that pesky skeleton. I killed it. But that doesn’t sound right. It is already a skeleton, so it is already dead. I guess then I re-killed it?

I threw one more firebolt at the skeleton closest to Lyrie. She struck it with her sword and it crumbled to the floor.

The room went quiet.

           I counted five skeletons in total. If I only re-killed one and helped Lyrie with another, that meant that I wasn’t pulling my fair share of the work. That was a bit embarrassing. I would need to train harder to be useful with the group or they might find a new wizard. Someone taller and more dashing. Not that I can’t dash, not many can beat me in a foot race.

It was finally time to check out my candle. The candle sat between a decanter and a whistle. I carefully picked it up off the altar. Its glowiness warmed my heart. Zylena claimed the decanter and Lyrie grabbed the whistle.

            I tried to blow out my new candle. Nothing happened.

            I tried again. Nothing happened.

            I tried a third time and still, nothing happened.

            That technique was not going to work.

            I steeled myself then put my hand through the flame. No heat and, fortunately, no pain. I was positively giddy.

            “I’m tired,” Lyrie said in elvish. I wasn’t tired and there was an ever-burning candle that needed more investigation.

            As Lyrie relaxed, I decided to show my worth and let everyone know that I was valuable. I cast a ritual version of Detect Magic. No surprise that the whistle, decanter, and candle all glowed blue. I made sure to cast it close to the altar in case there was more magic hiding in or around it. Sadly, there wasn’t.

            Lyrie still seemed tired, so I ritually cast Identify. I soon learned that the decanter was full of a Protection from Fire potion. I handed it to Zylena and let her know what she had gotten. I checked to see if Lyrie still needed to rest and she did. So, I ritually cast Identify on the whistle. I learned that it was called Night Caller and could raise an undead servant. I shivered, that seemed kind of creepy. I gave it to Lyrie and let her know what it was.

            She continued to be in a repose position, so I finally checked my candle. It was enchanted with a Continual Flame spell that looked like a burning candle. I always wanted a magic item and this was my first. I’d call it Glow-y the Darkness Bain. Then I had an idea.

            I put out the fire in my hooded lantern and put the magical candle inside it. Now I could use my hooded lantern and not have to use oil and my lantern would stay nice and cool.

            “I’m hungry,” I said having finished all my casting and working up an appetite while doing so.

            “Hops, I only have tens days’ worth of rations,” Lyrie said.

            “That’s more than a week,” I replied.

            “Ten days for one person. Two people are only five.”

            Five days of rations. What would I do without my daily meals? My stomach growled in protest to the idea that it might not get fed.

            “I’m so hungry,” I said as I rubbed my empty belly.

            Lyrie sighed and then handed me some food that I gobbled up immediately. Once I was done eating, we were ready to continue. Po led us to the other door in the room. We walked past the fountain with those cryptic words.

            We entered a hallway with three doors on each side more rat droppings and those humanoid tracks. Lyrie walked over to the closest door on the right and listened at it. I looked back over my shoulder back at the room we just left. I couldn’t get the fountain out of my head.

            The draconic words had opened the door. What would the words on the fountain do?

            “Hops.”

            It is not a door, so it can’t open.

            “Hops.”

            I could say them and see what happened. It would be interesting.

            “Hops!”

            “What?” I exclaimed as I realized my name had just been said.

            “Can you investigate these doors?” Lyrie asked.

            Investigate! I immediately used my magic to create the illusion of a pipe, just like the one described in my book that Herlock Shomes uses, and said, “Of course, I can.”

            Unfortunately, the illusion was minor and as I walked forward to take a look, the pipe stayed behind. The door did not seem to be trapped, but to be honest I don’t know what a trap would look like. I think I should find someone who could help me learn about traps and locks. As I looked at the door, I heard scurrying noises behind it. I hopped back away from the door.

            “I think there is something on the other side,” I said.

            “What did you hear?” Lyrie asked.

            “Scurrying noises,” I replied.

            “Most likely rats,” Po said.

            “Rats don’t scare me,” Zylena said.

            “I don’t know if I care what’s behind the door,” Lyrie said.

            As they continued to talk, I walked back toward the room with the fountain. I peeked my head around the corner and, in draconic, said, “Let there be fire.”

            The fountain gurgled and popped and several other descriptive words of strange and watery noises. A red liquid spilled out of the red dragon’s mouth.

            I pulled from my pack the glass bottle that I had bought from Lyrie’s aunt’s store. I thought it was kind of pretty. I put it under the dragon’s mouth. As the red liquid filled up the bottle, I felt very vindicated in spending the two gold pieces to get it.

            “What are you doing?” Zylena asked is elvish as she ducked through the door.

            “I said the words and it started spitting out this red liquid,” I replied.

            “What is it?”

            “Don’t know,” I said. “I’ll check it later.”

            “We decided to not open the doors, there is another room at the end of the hallway.”

            I put the stopper in my now full bottle and said, “Let’s go.”

            The room at the end of the hallway had another dragon-themed fountain, again. There were two trap doors on the floor that were sprung and held open with spikes. We looked down into their maw and saw only dirt and rat bones about six Hops below.

            “Want to check the door?” Lyrie asked me.

            “Sure,” I said.

            As I approached the door, the smell of rotting flesh grew stronger and when I listened at the door, I could hear the scurrying of rats.

            “More rats,” Lyrie said with disgust in her voice.

            “And possibly more undead given the smell,” I said.

            “It is the only way to go,” Zylena said.

            I looked around the room to see if we could use it to our advantage. I had an idea.

            I said, “I’ll use my Minor Illusion cantrip to make the floor look solid over the trapdoor closest to the door. We’ll stand on the opposite side of the room and I’ll use my Mage Hand to open the door. Whatever is inside the room will rush out and fall down the hole.”

            “I like it,” Lyrie said.

            “Everyone against the far wall,” I said.

            I cast Minor Illusion and hid the first trap door, then my Mage Hand appeared.

            “Everyone ready?” I asked.

            Everyone nodded. I opened the door.

            No undead, just more giant rats. The first one through the door fell into the hole.

            “Yes,” I exclaimed as my plan was working.

            The second rat saw its buddy disappear and moved around the hole as well as the third one through the door. At least, I took care of one of them. Lyrie and Zylena sprang into action and killed the other two rats. I looked back at the door to see a huge rat barreling out of the door. It bypassed the trap and made eye contact with me.

We all missed it as it charged directly for me. As it lunged, a thought that perhaps I was not combat ready went through my head. It collided with me and then everything went dark.

[1] No. Goblins do not think that dust and rocks are valuable.