4 - Ambush [Story]

His small body crouched over, tail swinging excitedly, Yyx ran low and fast through the tall grass alongside the King's Road. "They are coming!" he hissed in Draconic as he reached the boulders that shielded his brethren from view.

"Finally," his broodmate, Zyx said. "Now hide."

Yyx's heart was pounding. His tribe had been outraged when their patrol had been slain several days before but without any survivors, they had no idea who could have done such a thing. The town of Winterhaven hardly had the will or the manpower to eliminate so many of them. But before the next day had dawned, their leader had received information from his patron as to who had harmed them. A dragonborn paladin, two humans -- one a mage and one a warrior -- and a half-elven ranger, seeking some missing person.

Irontooth had selected four of his finest to deal with them. Three dragonshields -- accomplished and determined blades -- and one of his finest warpriests -- Zyx. Yyx had not nearly the reputation of his older broodmate but he was fast and silent and afer much begging Zyx had persuaded the group to allow him to come as a scout. Now, with battle almost upon them, Yyx clutched his spear and felt his blood frenzy begin to build .

Soon the group appeared, the paladin's armor shining in the early morning sun and his large frame dwarfing the human woman walking beside him. Behind walked a short cloaked human carrying a staff and the ranger, recognizable by her forest garb and slung grey ash longbow.

"Yyx, wait for the others and attack the weakest from behind. Let the dragonshields bear the brunt of the attack." Zyx instructed his younger sibling. Zyx pulled down the horned skull that was the Wymrpiests' battle mask over his head. The kobolds grew silent and still as their prey comes closer and closer. Calling upon his god's favor, an orb of energy came into existence in Zyx's hand.

They prepared. And then, with a loud yell, the dragonshields charged. From his hiding place behind the boulders, Zyx turned and threw. Glowing sickly yellow, the orb slammed into the mage walking behind the armored dragonborn and human in front. There was a scream of agony as acid burned through cloth and flesh but the young mage did not fall and even managed to avoid Yyx's spear. The dragonshields charged the fighters, one of them sinking its shortword through plate and into the flesh of the paladin.

"The mage is hurt! Take him down first." screamed Zyx.

The Wymrpriest conjured another orb but his aim was off. In return there was a whoosh of heat and flame and Zyx did not have time to react. Even behind the cover of the boulder pain seared at him from the heat. Zyx winced as he saw both Yyx and one of the Dragonshields' also engulfed, but both were made of hardy stuff and no mere burst of flame would slay them.

The human woman with her greatsword was holding her own against one dragonshield and steel rang against steel. The other dragonshields had flanked the large Dragonborn; the paladin's warhammer crashed ineffectively on one Dragonborn's shield. Suddenly, the half-even woman was next to him and a longsword sank through scale armor and into flesh. A dragonshield yelped in irritation but still struck true again against the exposed Dragonborn and Zyx could see the paladin's blood on his comrades' blade.

Zyx cursed as another orb missed the mage but at least one dragonshield had heard his advice and administered a wicked slash to the mage, who was clearly injured, and trying to regain his composure, unable to cast spells for the moment.

"Take the half-elf, she's less armored" one dragonshield hissed to another. Using their smaller size and reptilian speed, they wheeled and both struck at the half-elf. Though she had managed to withdraw from her initial charge and shoot a painful arrow into the one she had charged, their blades cut through the ranger's leather, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain.

Their change in targets freed the giant paladin. "Yyx!" Zyx shouted in warning, but too late. Zyx's spiritual sense felt the roar of a divine assistance as the paladin swung the warhammer while calling upon Bahamut. A warm, glowing light limmed the mage and the paladin's warhammer, which found its mark. Zyx's brother fell, blood pouring out of his snout.

Enraged, Zyx's next orb found its mark, but the mage seemed to have found a second wind between his rest and the paladin's assistance as he sent a silvery bolt into the dragonshield fighting the brown-haired human woman. Zyx hissed in glee as the two dragonshields assaulting the blond half-elf drew more blood, her green and brown tunic beginning to turn dark from blood.

Zyx had seen the tide of battle turn in the kobolds' favor before at critical stages such as this -- they still were of even numbers with their foes, at least two of whom were seriously injured. Just at that moment, though, the chestnut haired human woman ceased her immediate attack and called out to her comrades, seemingly invigorating them with her words of encouragement. The half-elf and mage cheered out in return and the paladin's warhammer caved in the skull of a dragonshield. Zyx felt a twinge of fear, but even greater rage. He knew what he had to do.

Emerging from the cover of the boulders, Zyx's heart raced as he raced until he was close to the melee. Zyx pulled back the dragon's head bone mask that served as his helmet and symbol of spiritual authority, prayed to his god and breathed.

An acid cloud belched from his mouth and engulfed both foes and friend. Although one dragonshield screamed in agony, cursing in draconic, as the acid plumes dissipated Zyx growled in triumph. Though the half-elf and paladin still fought, from the closer vantage Zyx could tell they were close to falling. Even better, the mage had finally collapsed, his body crumpled on the ground.

The chestnut haired woman screamed "Wing!" and ceased fighting to attend to his wounds, the paladin by her side. With two of the four attending their fallen comrade, the half-elf wheeled and fired an arrow into one of the two remaining dragonshield, felling him. But as she did the remaining dragonshield was upon her and stabbed her. The half-elf staggered and fell in a ball to the ground.

Zyx was amazed to see the mage up again and cursed the fact that they had a healer among them. He ran to avoid physical combat, hurling an ill-aimed orb at the mage. The tide was turning against them, as only he and a lone dragonshield remained. The human attacked the dragonshield so skillfully that as her greatsword carved a gash through armor and into the flesh of the kobold that the dragonshield turned and exposed himself to a wicked smash from the mage's quarterstaff. The dragonshield still stood, but it breathed heavily and its blood ran like water down its scales.

Zyx sprang out of the way of the paladin as it gave chase after administering another healing touch to the fallen half-elf. "Too slow," hissed Zyx. "Have some of your own medicine," replied the paladin in Draconic, inhaled and then roared. The kobold yelped but the lightning that poured from the dragonborn's mouth was more impressive than effective. Zyx fought through the pain and conjured another orb.

The kobold wymrpriest hurled the acid orb with deadly accuracy. Already staggered from the blades of the dragonshields and the acid cloud of Zyx, Farad fell. But Zyx's joy was shortlived. His last companion had been beat back by the human woman and though the greatsword had not struck a mortal wound, Zyx saw that the woman's whole purpose was not to strike a blow but to give her companion the half-elf an opportunity to get to her feet and knock her bow. The dragonshield fell, arrow shafts where its eyes were moments before.

Zyx, Wympriest of Irontooth, knew that his life was forfeit. But these creatures could be made to suffer before he perished. It was his last cogent thought; pain like he had never felt before lanced through him and he saw his limbs blacken and burn into uselessness

* * * *

Standing atop Farad's body, Wing buried another magic missile into the smoking form of the last remaining kobold. Alastair had taught him that his most advanced offensive enchantment, an acid arrow, was meant to attack groups of enemies as its burning acid would explode and strike many enemies, but in these dire circumstances Wing had thought it necessary to use the spell most likely to kill the creature before it did further harm to his wounded companion. He had never seen the spell against a living creature and he was both impressed and disgusted as the yellowish bolt had hit the fearsomely masked little conjurer and turned it into a smoking, screaming heap.

As he bandaged the unconscious but still breathing paladin, through the pain from his burns and slahes and the rush of his adrenaline Wing felt a great tiredness and a sinking realization at how deadly both his friends and his enemies were becoming.

* * * *

The group rested in a shaded grove several hundred yards off the King's Road, bandaged and weary. With Naruel and Wing's aid, Farad had regained consciousness. Each of them had applied the healing salves and bandages they had. With the pleasant breeze, the sunny blue skies and soft grass almost made one forget that they had been fighting for their lives just an hour before.

Madeleine still felt the rush of battle. She had never felt such fear -- three of them had fallen at one time or another and they had only eked out victory -- but she also felt a powerful sense of vindication. While she herself had not administered even a single killing blow, she had inspired them to continue fighting and had been able to outmanuever her reptilian opponents, giving her comrades an opportunity to move and to strike. Naruel had even paused from her work patching her slashed and battered leather armor to commend her, which had caused her heart to swell with pride.

Am I a bad person even though I feel elation even though my closest friends came seconds within death? The thought passed. Madeleine would work harder so that next time the battle would not be so close. She would lead them to victory. She looked around for Wing. He was sitting nearby, sorting through the goods they had found on the kobolds' bodies.

"Anything useful?" she asked.

Wing paused before answering, holding a small necklace in his hand. "I think so. Farad?" The paladin, his cloak and armor now spattered with blood, strode over.

"Recognize this?" It was a small obsidian dragon figurine. Farad grasped it in his claws, the little necklace looking even tinier in his large talons. He turned it over and gazed at it for a moment before dropping it back in Wing's hands.

"I am sorry, Wing, I do not. I confess I was a poor student of history and symbols. What is this symbol on the bottom?"

Wing looked at Madeleine. Madeleine snorted. "Wing, you and I had the same tutor years ago -- you know that there's no way I know that."

Wing gave a smile. "I just wanted to see what others thought, but I'm fairly sure this is the symbol of Orcus."

Orcus, demon lord of the undead. When Madeleine was little she and her friends had scared themselves with stories of abductions by the cult of the follower of Orcus. While it was not entirely surprising that the little reptilian creatures would worship an evil god, knowing their foes called upon Orcus for their power made a chill run up and down her spine.

"Perhaps we should return to town. We could rest, ask Valthrun about the activities of the cult of Orcus," Wing suggested.

Madeleine assented. "We should go to Lord Padraig, get some men and go wipe out these kobolds first. They are likely to have Douven and even if they don't, we're likely to be killed even if we do find him unless these things are dealt with. They clearly are out for us."

Farad was silent for a moment but then shook his head. "No, this attack convinces me that Douven is in grave danger. Each day we delay increases the chance we will never find him. Wing's discovery makes me even more certain that Douven has stumbled upon information relating to something of great importance. We can rest an hour or so, but must press on."

"Is that wise?" Wing asked. "Douven is perhaps already dead and we are held together by bandages and herbs. I need a good night's rest to be able to cast my most powerful spells and how many more times can you ask for Bahamut's boon in a single day? Should we have a vote?"

"This is not some free city council. You were sent to assist me and I believe we should press on ..." rumbled the Dragonborn.

Naruel, silent thus far, looked up from where she sat repairing her armor. "Wing may be right that we need rest. I also wonder if we may need more numbers if our foes are as resolute as they seem to be..."

"I too nearly died in battle, but my resolve has not waned ..."

Madeleine made an inarticulate angry noise and stepped forward, hand on hilt. "If you are calling my friends cowards you scaly freak ..."

"If you young ones are any louder, I'd not be surprised if you brought them kobolds on the road back from the dead to stop yer racket!" boomed a low gruff voice from outside the grove. Instantly, longbows and crossbows were unslung and warhammer and quarterstaff grabbed.

"Show yourself and declare your intentions, on pain of death!" shouted Madeleine, waving her crossbow in the general direction of the voice.

"Now, missee, don't get excited." A dwarf in battered scale mail, with a dark black long beard braided into three magnificent locks, walked into the grove, hands held high. "You don't want to go doing something that you might regret. Though I'd likely regret it even more."

He guffawed at his own joke. "I am Bailyn, a dwarven orcbreaker, and nephew to Torin Irongut. I was passing through several days ago and Torin mentioned that he and Alistair the wizard had recently sent a group of promising young adventurers north to accompany a paladin. As I had no plans, I came up to find them. Imagine my surprise to find a pile of kobold corpses on the road. Torin said there was a very vocal young human woman with them -- so judging by my ears and eyes -- I am fairly certain I have found what I am looking for. An Eastern born mage, a half-elven archer, a female swordswoman and a dragonborn paladin ..."

Naruel remained with arrow cocked. "How do we know you are not lying. Torin Irongut is well known in his village. We have just been ambushed."

The dwarf, arms still raised, shrugged. "Tis true. Of course, this seems a piss poor trap if that's what it is. I have come to offer my maul and my shield. If you refuse, I understand. But if you seek to bridge your differences, I could be of great use. I am fresh and we can press on to find your missing friend. If you'd like, I'll stand in the front row and if I act suspicious, I give you leave to shoot me in the back ..."

People considered this. Wing finally broke the silence.

"Well, I guess you'll have to aim low."