Dungeon Master Assistance

“What do you think you are doing?” Trevan yelled as he snatched the crossbow out of Yeark’s hands. “Why did you shoot that boy?” Trevan could hardly contain his anger.

“That’s no boy,” Yeark said. “That’s a gnome!”

“I don’t care if he is a gnome. That still doesn’t give you the right to shoot him for no reason! I’m going to see if he is okay. You had better hope that he isn’t dead.”  He ran to him and could see that he had been mistaken. The short individual laying there with an arrow in his soldier was indeed not a boy.  Trevan hadn’t noticed the beard from a distance. He had never seen a gnome before. The wound, though serious, wasn’t fatal. He carried him to the cabin and laid him on the bedroll he had laid out for himself. He dressed the wound and saw to it that the gnome was resting quietly.

“Now tell me why you shot this gnome,” he said.

“Because he is a gnome,” Yeark answered.

“So you just attack every gnome you see?”

Yeark looked surprised at the question. “You don’t know anything about kobolds, do you? Gnomes are our mortal enemies. He probably knew I was here and was coming to kill me. And if you tried to stop him he would kill you too. You should let him die.”

“I am not going to let him die! He wasn’t coming here to kill anybody. He called to us from the road. I’m guessing that he was just a traveler looking for a place to stay the night.” He finished wrapping his shoulder and turned to Yeark. “Now listen to me. This is important. You are not to attack anyone without getting my approval first.”  Yeark rolled his eyes and turned away. “Do you understand me?’

“You sure have a lot of rules,” Yeark said.

“Do you understand?” Trevan repeated.

“Yes,” Yeark said. “No attacking anyone unless you tell me I can.”

“That’s right,” Trevan said. “That is my first and most important rule.”

Trevan was exhausted. He laid down next to the gnome and quickly fell to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he saw that his patient was still sleeping and appeared to be comfortable. He looked around at the devastated structure. It was strange to look up and see the sky instead of the familiar exposed beams and underside of the roof he had looked at all of his life. Then he realized the kobold wasn’t there. He walked over and lifted the board Yeark had placed to hide his hole in the floor. He wasn’t there. Trevan thought for a minute that Yeark had run away. He was rather hoping that he had. Then he realized that the kobold must have stayed up all night working on the cabin. All of the loose debris was gone and the floor was reasonably clean.  There was a small fire burning in what was left of the fireplace and a small batch of fresh firewood neatly stacked beside it. To the other side was bucket of fresh water. Somehow the kobold had found a metal drinking cup and set it beside the bucket.

A voice came from what had been the back of the cabin. “Look what I found.” Trevan turned to see the small kobold proudly holding up two arrows in one hand with a bird stuck on each. Following behind him was a goat he was pulling along by a rope in his other hand. “They must have run away when the dragon attacked,” Yeark said. He stepped over the charred baseboard where the back wall of the cabin had been and brought his prize into the center of the room. Now Trevan could see he had shot one of their three chickens and their rooster. He didn’t even bother trying to explain to Yeark what he had done wrong, but he was glad to see that he hadn’t killed the goat.

“We could eat them like this, but I like mine cooked a little,” Yeark said as he stuck them into the fire.

“What are you doing?” Trevan said. “Aren’t you going to clean them first?”

Yeark said “They aren’t dirty. Besides the fire will burn off most of the feathers if that’s what you are worried about.”

“I guess I don’t care how you eat yours,” Trevan said as he removed the hen from the fire. “But I’m going to show you how to clean and properly cook a bird, if you are going to be cooking for me.” He sat on the only whole bench and proceeded to instruct Yeark on the proper procedure for plucking all of the feathers, removing the head and feet and the innards. Then he made a proper roasting stick and placed the chicken over the fire.

“You’re not going to eat this?” Yeark asked, pointing to the parts Trevan discarded. Before he could answer Yeark was eating everything but the feathers.

From the back of the cabin a voice said, “You know, if you put the heart and gizzard in a pot of water with some turnips and onions you could make a nice soup.” It was the gnome. He was awake and sitting up. He cast a quick spell and the tin cup by the bucket rose into the air, dipped itself into the water and floated to him. It delighted him to see the shocked expression on their faces.

With Trevan’s aid, the gnome fully recovered in a few days. Trevan made Yeark pledge not to harm the gnome, or take anything that belonged to him. The gnome said his name was Raerpin Gimble Janker Skor Mikkennis Din Nackle, but most people just called him Gimble. He told them the story of the dragon attack. But he didn’t tell them about his magical gem. That he kept in his pocket. After hearing what the dragon did to Hetsdale, Trevan asked Yeark, “What can you tell me about this dragon named Abraxas?”

“Everyone knows about Abraxas,” said Yeark. “He is one of the oldest and most powerful of the Great Worms. It is said that the place he sleeps is somewhere in the Black Mountains, in a cavern under a volcano, on a bed of treasure accumulated over the centuries. The stories of his greatness are legendary. I only wish we had arrived here earlier so I might have seen him.”

Trevan tried to suppress his anger. “If we had arrived earlier I may have been able to save my father!” he said.

“You would have died as well,” said Yeark. “You heard how the fighters in Hetsdale all died trying to defeat him. You wouldn’t have had a chance. Many adventurers have tried, all have failed, and most have died.”

“Someday I will succeed where they failed. I will find Abraxas and avenge my father,” said Trevan.

Then he asked, “Why would he have destroyed Hetsdale and killed my father?”

“For Abraxas to have come all this way, he must have been looking for something specific.” said Yeark. “He wouldn’t have destroyed Hetsdale if they had given him his due respect and if they had given him what he asked for. Instead, they attacked him! They should have known what would happen to them after that. He must have not found what he was looking for in Hetsdale and was still looking for it when he stopped here. Was your father hiding a gem of some sort, perhaps a magical gem that would be of special interest to a dragon?”

“I already told you that we didn’t have anything of much value,” said Trevan.

Gimble said nothing, but he was sure now that Abraxas was looking for his magical gem. He was also sure that the kobold would slice his throat and give his gem to that evil dragon if he found out about it.

Trevan felt responsible for the gnome’s injury and said that he was welcome to stay here as long as he wanted. Over the next few days he told Gimble his story and how he had acquired a kobold. Although Yeark tended to sleep all day and work all night, he proved to be quite helpful in re-building the cabin. Gimble never quite trusted Yeark, but he liked Trevan and as soon as he was able, he began to help with the rebuilding.

Gimble and Trevan became close friends. Trevan even laughed at his pranks. Gimble had no place to go, so he decided to stay for a while. He didn’t tell Trevan, but one reason he stayed was to protect him from the kobold. He would sleep with a dagger under his pillow, and would wake up at the slightest sound. He was sure that Yeark intended to kill them both at his first opportunity.

Trevan began learning the draconian language from Yeark. Gimble decided he would learn it too. Gimble could already speak gnome, common and goblin. Learning draconian seamed to be a little easier for Gimble than it was for Trevan. They learned by asking Yeark questions, usually while working or doing other things. They started by asking for the draconian words for common everyday things like table, sky, sword, fire, etc. Yeark didn’t know the draconian word for some things. For instance, the closest he could come to “Father” was “he who was the last male with the mother before the egg was laid” or “the tribal leader”.  He said that the tribe’s leader has the right to claim all eggs. Yeark believed that he was the reincarnation of the last kobold to die before he was hatched, so it made no difference who the father was. “True dragons are much smarter than kobolds, or humans, or gnomes,” he said. “I am sure they know draconian words for many things for which we have no words.”

Then they started putting sentences together. This was very hard for Trevan. He almost gave up a couple of times, but with Gimble’s help and encouragement he persisted. Yeark was very impatient, and when he spoke in draconian he spoke quite rapidly, often punctuating the end of his sentences with a kind of high pitched “yelp”. They learned that dragons spoke slowly and, according to Yeark, used many more words than necessary. He proudly proclaimed that draconian was the one true language from which all others descend. He said that kobolds, who don’t live as long as dragons, invented writing so they could pass their words down from one generation to the next. They taught writing to the dragons but the dragons have never used it much. Then Trevan and Gimble proceeded to learn to write the dragons language.

When Gimble mentioned how similar the written draconian language was to the writing used in magic, Yeark said that dragons brought magic into the world and taught it to the other races. “Magic is as natural to a dragon as breathing is to other races,” he said. “The magic of dragons is in the blood of kobolds as well. Many of my tribe were born with the ability to harness this power and control it to perform useful tasks, what you would call casting spells.”

“I haven’t seen you casting any spells,” said Gimble.

“For the tribe to prosper,” said Yeark, “each kobold must carry out his required function. I, like most others of my tribe, am more suited to performing mundane tasks. This in no way lessens the magical mature of the dragons blood that flows through my body. Neither does it lessen the importance of the fighter or miner to the success of the tribe.”

“Dragon’s blood, my grandmother’s big red toe!” said Gimble. “Magic is everywhere. You don’t have to have dragons blood to use it. We gnomes get our magic from our closeness with nature. Clerics and shamans of all races obtain their magic from their deities. Wizards learn to directly manipulate the power of magic through their studies.”

“That’s right.” Trevan said to Gimble. “Father said that he could feel the magic of nature. He said that some rangers could cast spell using this magical force. This must be the same power that you use for your magic. I suppose it is the same magical force that Druids use for their spells. But you said that draconian writing looks like magic writing. Do you know how to read magic?”

Gimble said, “I saw magic writing in a book once, about twenty years ago, but I can’t read or write it.”

“You don’t look old enough to have seen anything twenty years ago,” said Trevan.

“I’m forty eight years old,” he said. “Gnomes live a lot longer than humans. I wasn’t old enough to go off on my own until I celebrated my fortieth birthday.”

One day while the three of them were trimming a log for the cabin construction, Trevan asked Yeark what traps are called in draconian. Yeark thought for a minute and then he asked Trevan, “How many different words do you have for trap?”

“Well,” said Trevan, “I can think of several different types of traps. There are rabbit traps and snares and pits.”

Gimble said, “I’d say that they are only two types, mechanical traps and magical traps.”

Yeark said, “There are over 200 draconian words for trap. Each consists of a prefix for the creature that is the target of the trap followed by the intended purpose of the trap and there is an optional suffix describing the type of trap. The target creature can be the creature’s name, if the target is a specific individual, or the race of the target, such as human or gnome for example, or the general creature type. The general types are;” Yeark held up his hands and pointed to his fingers one at a time as he recited, “ flying insect, crawling insect – which includes normal spiders, tiny – like frogs or rats, small – like wolves or kobolds, medium – like human or elf, large – like elk or bear, very large and gigantic. Traps for very large or gigantic creatures are usually built for a particular creature or race. The purpose of the trap is; to discourage, to slow, to capture, to injure, to maim, or to kill. The type suffix, if it is included, is the basic kind of trap – such as pit or snare.”

“So,” said Trevan, “what would the draconian word be for the trap you found me in?”

“keir-aia,” said Yeark. “Keir is draconian for medium size creature, like you. Aia means ‘to have’, or in this case it means to capture. You could add misanne, a pit type trap, and it would be keir-aia-misanne.“

Trevan suddenly grew flush with anger, threw down his ax and lunged towards Yeark. Gimble jumped between them and grabbed Trevan’s arm. Trevan stopped and Yeark jumped back. Trevan yelled at Yeark, “Capture!? That trap killed Kaylan! I don’t think it was made for capture!”

Yeark said, “I was answering your question! Are you are going to attack me every time you don’t like the meaning of a word?”

Gimble said, “Nothing would please me more than seeing that dirty kobold beaten into the ground, but he is right about one thing. You are going to have to control your temper.”

“You’re right,” said Trevan, still staring at Yeark. “But why would you lie about the trap name?”

“If you will calm down,” said Yeark, “I’ll explain.” Gimble let go of Trevan’s arm as Trevan took a step back. Yeark relaxed a little and continued, “I’ll tell you how traps are graded. Kobolds always design traps for the minimum required effect. It can then be enhanced for a possible greater effect. A trap intended to scare might wound or maim. A trap intended to harm or capture might kill. As long as the trap performs its intended minimum effect it is considered successful. Its name reflects this minimum desired result. If it also causes additional damage it is better. We often enhance traps after they are made.”

Trevan was determined to finished rebuilding the cabin long before the first snowfall. He and Gimble would find a good tree. Trevan would chop it down. Gimble would top it and remove the limbs. The two of them would drag it back to the cabin site. Yeark would trim and shape it, and would notch and fit the corners. Gimble rigged up a device to help lift the finished logs into place. Each log was squared off and made smooth on three sides and the bark was left on the outside. Yeark cleaned, shaped and finished the interior of the cabin as it went up. They replaced the charred wood floor but left the boards loose in Yeark’s corner to cover his sleeping pit. They rebuilt the fireplace using the bricks from the old one. The roof hadn’t burned, but the rafters were broken in several places. They were able to re-use most of the wood from the old roof and all of the old wood shingles. The new cabin wasn’t going to be as tall as the old one, but the floor was just as big.

On the day Trevan and Kaylan left to track the kobold, just a little before noon in the small village of Hetsdale about 50 miles north of their cabin, a gnome was laying on a small stack of firewood. Beside him was a larger stack of un-cut logs. The ax he had been using was on the ground. He was watching a kitten chasing a leaf.

His appearance was typical for a gnome. He was about three and a half feet tall. He had light tan skin, light grey hair and a short, carefully trimmed beard. His nose looked too big for his face. He was wearing a dark brown leather vest and matching knee-high boots. His shirt was light blue-grey with red and green beads tied to the bottom fringe. His breeches were made of alternating stripes of red and green cloth.

The leaf that the kitten was chasing was staying just out of reach. As the gnome moved his finger, the leaf would make a corresponding move. It landed on a small pile of leaves. The kitten crouched down and got ready to pounce on it. The gnome uttered a couple of well practiced magical words. Just as the kitten jumped, a sound came from under the leaves. It was a “snap” about as loud as someone snapping their fingers. The kitten changed directions in mid-air. Its hair stood straight up and it fell over itself trying to run backwards. It took off down the dusty street as fast as it could. The gnome laughed so hard he fell off the stack of firewood.

He was still laughing when he noticed a faint glow through his shirt. It was coming from a gem mounted on the pendent he wore around his neck. He pulled it out to look at it. He watched as the glow became steadily brighter. Looking closer he could see that the star inside had turned a ruddy color and was pointed to the west. It was still getting brighter.

The trade-stone sized gem, about one quarter of an inch across, was mounted in the center of a 3” diameter silver pendant in such a fashion that it could be seen from either side. It was a dying gift to him from his uncle.

He pulled the chain off his neck and put the pendant and chain into the front pocket of his vest so no one could see the glow. He ran into the blacksmith shop where he worked and yelled, “Enard! We have to get out of town right away, a dragon is coming!”

Enard was a six foot tall human. He was hammering on a white-hot bar of metal “Don’t bother me now, Gimble. Go back to work,” he said without looking up. “I don’t have time for whatever game you are playing.” He kept on hammering.

“But . . . “

“Back to work I said!”

Two years earlier Gimble had been caught leaving Enard’s shop one night with his arms full of new swords and knives. He admitted picking the lock and taking the items, but he insisted that he was only borrowing them for an elaborate prank he was planning. He was sentenced to work for Enard for 3 months. Enard and Gimble become close friends and Gimble continued to work for Enard after his sentence was over. He was the closest thing Gimble had to a family.

Gimble’s uncle had made him promise to keep the gem and its magical abilities a secret. Now a dragon was coming and there was no way to convince anyone without telling them about the gem. Everyone else in the small village was human and, like Enard, would not take Gimble seriously. Perhaps nothing would happen. The dragon might just be passing over. Gimble was much too frightened to stay and find out. He ran to his room in the back and threw his possessions into a carpet bag. He looked at the gem again. It was glowing brightly now. He ran as fast as he could to the trees closest to the town. He hid himself and his bag behind a tree and waited.

When people began to notice the large dragon silhouette in the sky to the west, they called others who called the children to all come out and look. It wasn’t often one saw a dragon fly by and it looked like it was going to pass directly overhead. As it got closer it became obvious that this dragon wasn’t going to just be flying over. It dove and began flying very close to the ground. When it reached the town, it circled once. The wind from his leathery wings blew the laundry from the clothes lines and the chairs from the porches. It blew up a cloud of dust as it landed in the center of the town square.

The women, children and faint of heart all ran inside and bared the doors. The horses in the corral nearest to the center of town all started kicking into the air in panic. They broke down the rail fence and ran off in several directions. Many people, the youngest and weakest in character cowered where they were standing. Only the bravest stayed their ground. Among them was Enard the blacksmith. Gimble watched from his hiding place behind the tree.

What he saw was a huge reptilian creature with red scales. Standing on all 4 feet, it was over 20 feet tall at its shoulders. It gracefully folded its huge wings over its back. The scales that covered its body formed a ridge down its back that continued down the length of its tail and up the back of its long neck to divide at the back of its head becoming two rows of horns, one along each side of its head. It spoke with a deep and thunderous voice, “I am the Abraxas, the Indestructible! I have come to honor your village with my presence. All I require from you is your gems and jewelry. Also all coins, precious metal, works of art, magical items and all other items of value. You will place them here before me so I may examine them.”

Everyone stood frozen in place, frightened and not quite understanding what was going on. The dragon reared his head, filled his mighty lungs with air and blew from his mouth a tremendous cone of fire. The men sanding near felt a wave of heat pass over them from the blast as it struck an unoccupied area between them. They shielded their faces from the heat and bright flash of light from the fire. An instant later it was over. The smell of sulfur hung in the air. A roughly circular area about 40 feet in diameter was blackened and smoke was rising from it into the air.

“You have one hour to fully comply,” the dragon said. “Obey and I will leave you and your village unspoiled. Try to keep any gems or any other treasure for yourself and I will kill all of you and burn your village to the ground. Start bringing me these items now!”

Gimble remained hidden and watched as all of the people in the village began running into their homes and shops. They quickly gathered their valuables and one by one they ran out to the dragon and dropped them in front of him. The dragon picked up each gem stone and, after careful examination, placed them in a row on the ground. He noted, but paid little attention to, the coins and other valuables.

After only a few minutes, all of the village’s treasure lay at his feet. Everyone who could overcome his or her fear stood back away from the dragon and waited. The dragon looked at them and at the pile of coins and jewelry and the row of gems. There were also a couple of swords, a suit of chainmail armor and a gold-trimmed mirror.

“Someone is holding back,” he said angrily. “There is someone here who has the gem that I am looking for. The one who has it knows what I want. Bring it to me now, or everybody dies!”

Gimble put his hand on his pendant. The dragon must somehow know about his magical gem. This must be what he was looking for. He gathered up all of his courage and decided he would give it to the dragon to save the town. Just as he was about to step out from hiding, he saw Enard climbing onto the roof of the blacksmith shop, out of view from the dragon. He was wearing a suit of light armor and carrying a longbow. He steadied himself on the roof then stood up and fired an arrow at the dragon. At the same time that he released the arrow he yelled, “Now!” and a few other armed and armored villagers stepped out to begin their attack on the dragon, three men with bows in front and two with swords behind. Enard’s arrow pierced the dragon’s side and he quickly readied another. Before the other men could react, the dragon attacked. A cone of fire caught all three of the men in front and the dragon’s tail hit the other two as they ran. Only one of the men that were caught in the fire survived. He dove to one side, tumbled to his feet and fired an arrow that struck a glancing blow off the dragon’s left wing. The two men behind were thrown by the massive tail some 60 feet and crashed into the side of a building. They didn’t move from where they landed. Enard fired another arrow. It hit the dragon’s shoulder, but did little damage. The dragon moved his hands in an odd way and spoke some words directed towards Enard. Gimble recognized this as a magical spell, but it was not one he had heard before. Enard stood motionless. It was as if he were frozen. He couldn’t move a muscle. The remaining archer fired another arrow, but it missed completely. The dragon unfolded his wings, took a wing assisted leap in the direction of the scorched archer and crushed him to death with one huge rear foot. Without pausing, he pushed off into the air and flew over to the roof where Enard was left like a statue with a fresh arrow in his bow.  He dropped his bow and began to scream when the dragon snatched him off the roof and began circling higher and higher above the town square. Grabbing him must have broken the spell for he was thrashing about, trying to get loose from the vice-like grip the dragon had on him.

The dragon dropped him to his death from high above the street. Gimble turned away but heard the scream that ended abruptly with a loud thud. Gimble crept away, as the dragon proceeded to destroy the town. He crawled for some distance before he felt safe enough to get up and began to run. After about an hour, he turned and looked back. Above the forest trees he could see a column of smoke. There was no wind that day and the smoke was rising straight up. Then he saw the unmistakable silhouette circle the smoke before it flew off to the south.

He pulled out his pendant. Its light was dimming. The red star inside was pointing to the south, following the path of the dragon. Gimble decided to follow the dragon. The gem continued to glow dimly for a couple of hours before it went dark. He cut across to meet up with the road and followed it south all the rest of that day and most of the next. Near sundown he came to a clearing with the burned remains of a cabin some distance away from the road. He called to a badger he saw near the edge of the forest.

Gimble was a gnome that could talk to burring animals. Only about half of them can. It always frustrated him to talk to badgers; they are so dumb. It sometimes takes a few minutes just to say hello. This badger was mostly interested in a fresh batch of sweet wild onions he had found. After a few minutes Gimble was finally able to piece a story together. The dragon had landed here and burned down the place. There are two occupants in the cabin now, who came after the dragon left.

Gimble was dragging his carpet bag up the hill toward the cabin and called out to whoever was there. A human came out first and then a kobold. Gimble had always hated kobolds but before he could react, the kobold dashed back into the cabin and returned with a crossbow and fired at him. He felt the sharp pain in his shoulder before he passed out.

Yeark was two feet, two and one half inches tall, but, if asked, he always claimed to be two foot three. By extending his double jointed legs, he could increase his height by another 11 inches, but it was painful to do so for more than a few seconds. He would help with work in the mine when needed, but his primary function in the tribe was border security.

A kobold’s day starts at sundown. This day started for Yeark the same as any other. His first job was to check all of the traps outside the north entrance to the mine. He was to clear and re-set them if necessary. He would make sure they were all in good order before returning to the mine. Of course if any intruders were caught or killed he was to return right away. Security would be tightened and the mine put on alert until any potential danger had been dealt with.

He weighed 43 lbs. and his scaly skin was light brown, except for a lighter streak across his left jaw and half-way down his neck. The result of an old sword wound. He was wearing a suit of reddish-brown studded leather armor and a utility belt. He carried a longbow (sized for kobolds) hooked for quick release on his back along with a quiver of arrows. He carried a javelin which he used as a walking stick and to clear brush aside.

There was a full moon this night. Yeark preferred moonless nights. Kobolds can see just fine in total darkness. He always thought that a bright night could only favor an intruder. His job was to see to it that intruders were kept away. As he approached one of the pits, he could see that it had been disturbed. The cover had fallen. This usually meant some creature had fallen in. He was hoping that it was another wild pig. He liked eating pig.

He learned long ago that you don’t check a pit trap by looking over the side. There could be an armed enemy inside just waiting for someone to provide them with an easy target. First he quietly approached and just listened for a while to see if he could hear any movement inside. At first he thought he heard some leaves rustle but them he heard nothing at all for several minutes. Perhaps it was just the wind. He then carefully climbed a nearby tree and looked around a limb down into the pit. He was surprised to see a human lying on the debris that had been covering the pit. He was obviously dead, impelled through the heart on one of the spikes in the bottom of the pit.

Yeark quickly scampered down and to the edge of the open pit. He took his bow and fired three arrows into the dead body. He was making sure it was really dead, and besides, it was good target practice. He was eager to search the body for valuables before he reported the intruder. Humans often carried coins or wore jewelry.

He put his bow and quiver down next to his javelin before he got the rope ladder he had hidden near by. Just before reaching the bottom of the pit, he heard movement behind. For an instant he thought that the dead human had jumped up, but before he could turn to see what had made the sound he felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. He must have lost consciousness for a couple of seconds. Before he opened his eyes he felt himself painfully pinned to the ground. He opened his eyes to find an angry human holding him down. Both of Yeark’s legs were under the human’s knees, which was causing him much pain. One of the human’s massive hands was holding both of his arms across his chest, and the other one was holding a large knife. He raised the knife and was about to slash it across Yeark’s throat. Speaking in the common language, Yeark pleaded, “Please don’t kill me!”

This seamed to surprise this giant of a creature (compared to the small kobold) that was holding him down. Yeark was completely unable to move. The young human just froze, still holding the knife in the air, staring into the kobold’s large amber colored eyes.

When Trevan and his brother Kaylan fell into the pit, Kaylan had landed directly on a spike in the bottom and had died instantly. Trevan landed on top of him and suffered only minor injuries. He had been saved by his brother, whose body had cushioned his fall. Trevan tried to revive his brother but soon realized that he was beyond any help he could give him.

The sun was going down and he realized that he didn’t have much time before the kobolds would come and find them here. As he looked around he got mad at himself for falling for such a simple trap. It was just a hole dug into the ground and covered with sticks and leaves. It was about ten feet across and ten feet deep. The bottom, which was now littered with the sticks and leaves that had been covering it, had several large spikes. These were just big sticks which had been pounded into the bottom of the pit and then sharpened. He tried to climb out, but the sides were hard packed earth and had been smoothed somehow to prevent climbing. He couldn’t help thinking how stupid he had been. He realized now that the other trap was just a decoy, meant to be found. This was the real trap, set here for dummies like him to fall into while avoiding the obvious trap. Digging through the debris he could only find one of the crossbows and it was broken. He could only assume the other one had been dropped when they fell and must be outside the pit.

He didn’t have time to grieve for his brother. He laid up against the edge of the pit and covered himself with leaves and sticks. He thought that his only chance would be if only one or two kobolds came to check the trap. Perhaps they would see his brother lying there and not realize he was there too. When they climbed down to check on his brother’s body he would try to surprise them. He could use the broken crossbow handle as a club, and he had his brothers hunting knife.

The sun went down. The stars came out. The moon rose. It was a clear night and the moon shining down through the trees was casting strange and scary looking shadows on the sides and then on the bottom of the pit. Trevan moved to the darkest side of the pit and re-covered himself. The waiting was the hardest part. Several times he thought he heard someone coming, but then nothing would happen. He started to wonder if he was wrong. Maybe nobody was going to check the pit.  Maybe he would just be left down here until he died of starvation. He decided that if no one came during the night, he would have to find a way to get out of the pit in the morning. Then he heard a sound he wasn’t expecting. It was the familiar twang of an arrow being fired followed immediately by the thud of it penetrating a target. But no, not a target, Kaylan! Someone shot an arrow into his brother’s body! Trevan had to stop himself from jumping up and screaming. How could anyone do such a thing? Then a second arrow and then another. He was obviously dead. These must be kobolds, he thought, and this just proves that they are far more evil than he had ever thought.

He then saw a kobold. It was the first kobold he had ever seen. It was a small reptilian humanoid. Its short tail struck Trevan as comical, wigging back and forth from under its leather armor as it climbed down into the pit on a small rope ladder. He jumped up and hit the kobold as hard as he could with the handle from the broken crossbow. He jumped on top of it and held it down while he pulled his knife. He quickly glanced around to see if there were any more kobolds. Then, just as he was about to kill this one, it opened its eyes and said, “Please don’t kill me!”

Trevan knew that some kobolds could speak common, but this came as a shock. He had killed animals before, but never one that was looking him in the eyes and talking to him. The kobold saw that he was hesitating and said, “I can be much more valuable to you alive than dead.”

Trevan shook his head in disbelief. “What are you talking about?” he said.

Yeark was thinking fast, “If you don’t kill me, I can be your servant. I am a hard worker and can be of great benefit to you.” He had no idea what use a human would have for a kobold servant, but it was the only thing he could think of. “And I promise not to run away or try to kill you for . . . for a year,” he said.

Trevan thought this crazy idea, even if it was all a lie, might buy him enough time to escape, without having to kill this thing. Then he remembered something his brother said about learning as much as he could about kobolds to help in fighting dragons. He said, “Could you teach me to speak draconian? And, why for just a year? I could keep you forever if I wanted to.” He waved the knife in front of his face.

“If you intend to keep me forever, you may as well kill me now. I’ll be of no use to my tribe either way. If you try to keep me by force, I will be of no use to you as a servant. I will be spending all of my time trying to kill you and escape. I thought a year would be long enough.”

Trevan thought that this kobold was pretty smart. He asked, “What about teaching me draconian?”

Yeark said, “Yes, yes, anything you want. As long as it doesn’t pose a threat to my tribe or our mine, I’ll teach you how to speak draconian. I’ll teach you how to make traps. I’ll teach you . . . anything you want. Just don’t kill me.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Trevan said.

Yeark got very upset by this and started to thrash about. He said, “Maybe humans don’t honor promises, but kobolds do! If you don’t believe me then go ahead and kill me now!”

“Okay, okay . . . ,” Trevan said. “I’m going to let you up now. Don’t try anything.” He slowly released the kobold, stood up and backed away. Still holding the knife out, he said, “First I need you to help me get my brother out of the pit. We are going to take him home. Father will know what to do with you.”

To Trevan’s surprise, the kobold was very energetic and helpful. He quickly made a harness out of a length of rope from Kaylan’s backpack and helped Trevan haul him up out of the pit. Then he lashed together a couple of branches to make a litter and tied the body to it. It was designed to make it easy to drag the dead body over the forest floor. Yeark wasn’t sure why the human wanted to take his dead brother with them. Right now he was just glad that it wasn’t him left lying dead in the pit.

The moon was high in the sky and shining down through the trees, lighting their path. The earth was soft under foot. Trevan thought that if they went quickly, they may be able to reach the cabin by sunrise. The kobold helped drag the litter and showed no sign of trying to run away or alerting other kobolds. After about half an hour Trevan asked, “Do you have a name?”

“Of course I have a name, it’s Yeark. Do humans have names?”

“My name is Trevan. My brother’s name was Kaylan.” He looked back at the body. It was securely tied to the litter and bounced up and down as they dragged it over the uneven forest floor.

Yeark looked at the body and said, “Why are we taking this body with us? We could travel much faster if we left it here.”

Trevan was horrified at the thought. “I couldn’t possibly just leave him to be eaten by wolves. I have to take him home and give him a proper burial. I guess kobolds don’t bury their dead? What do you do with them then, eat them?”

“No, we don’t bury them,” he said. “But we don’t eat them unless we are very hungry, or they are very young.”

They traveled the rest of the way without talking.

They followed the trail as it went deeper and deeper into the forest. By noon Trevan had gone farther into the forest than he had ever gone before. They would loose the trail from time to time and find it again some distance away. The kobold was going in a fairly straight line towards the northeast. Trevan got better at recognizing the kobold tracks. They were about two inches wide and five inches long with three wide spread claws on the front. On a really good print he could make out a distinct lizard-like scale pattern. He learned to recognize the difference in the look of the tracks when the kobold was walking, running or standing still. He learned that when the kobold stopped to look around, he stood up on his toes and that was also the only time he left a tail track. He used his tail for balance when standing on tiptoe. He also learned to tell where the kobold had disturbed the plants as he pushed past them. There was one place where he stopped to eat berries. Trevan and Kaylan ate some too.
They came upon a place where he had stopped, and then ran off a few yards to the south. There he stopped and then continued back to the northeast. Near this point they found a small broken arrow, some bird tracks and a couple of fresh quail feathers. He must have shot a quail and took it with him. Trevan hadn’t considered that the kobold might be armed.
They crossed several other animal tracks as well. There were even some dear tracks in a couple of places.
As the day continued into evening, they eventually came to a small clearing by a creek where the kobold obviously stayed for a while. There was a small fire pit with cold ashes. Next to the fire he had set on a log and ate his quail. There were a few feathers and a couple of bones. He must have eaten all of the rest. They found the sharpened stick he had cooked it on. It took them a few minutes to examine the area around the camp before they found the trail again. He had crossed the creek and headed southeast, toward the Black Mountains.
This part of the forest was much denser, with taller, older trees and thicker undergrowth. Following the tracks became harder and they had to slow down to keep from losing the trail. As the sun was getting low in the evening they were about to follow the trail where it passed between two large trees when Kaylan shouted, “Freeze!”  Trevan stopped in his tracks, and looked back at Kaylan. “Don’t go any farther,” Kaylan said. “You are about to set off a trap. Look closely at that vine ahead.”
Trevan saw that there was a small vine between the trees about chest high that the kobold had easily passed under. He stood there looking around and then he saw that the limb of one of the trees had been pulled down and tied with a rope stretched down to the ground. There was another rope tied to the same limb that had its other end buried beneath the leaves that were covering the ground between the trees. The ropes had been rubbed down with dirt and tree sap and lightly covered with leaves and thin vines so they were hard to notice.  He couldn’t make out exactly how it worked, but it was now obvious that if he had broken, or pushed aside the vine it would have set off the trap and he would now be hanging by his foot, or perhaps by his neck.
“Yes, I see it now,” Trevan said. “Can I set it off so no one will be caught in it?” He very much would like to set it off to see exactly how it worked.
“No. I don’t want them to know that we were here. This is good. It means we are close to their lair. Or at least on one of the main paths to it’s entrance. Let’s just go around it. I am hoping we can find the entrance to the lair before nightfall.”
“Then what?” said Trevan.
“Then we will go home and tell Father what we have found. He will know what to do. At the very least we can warn people to avoid this area.”
They passed around to the right. Trevan was looking up into the tree, still trying to see how the trap worked when he heard a “snap!”  and the ground fell away beneath his feet.

I am writing a novel, just for fun. I will post it here in installments. Please leave comments. Criticism, critiques and corrections are welcome! I have never done this before. I am loosely basing all of the characters on Third Edition D&D. Perhaps we can all have some fun and learn a little about dragons along the way.

Trevan was only 14 years old when Kaylan, his older brother, took him on his first deer hunt. They were only going to be gone for two days so he put what he thought he might need into his backpack, grabbed his crossbow, a box of quivers and some hard bread and dried meat. It was mid summer so he wouldn’t need a heavy coat or blanket. They left at first light.
Their family’s cabin was located in a clearing in the Dark Woods forest. Contrary to its name, this part of the forest was only lightly wooded and was penetrated by many small streams.  Trevan lived here with his brother and his father. He never knew his mother. His father told him that she died of a fever shortly after he was born. His father had been a ranger when he was younger, but now he was too old to get around much and spent most of his time sitting in their one room log cabin making and repairing crossbows.
At the far east side of the clearing they came to the edge of a dirt road. This was the only road in this part of the forest. It clung to the edge of the clearing. To the north it disappeared into a dense patch of pine trees. To the south it crossed a small dry creek bed before curving southeast. Across the road there were trees with light undergrowth, easy enough to walk through if you watched for thorn bushes. Trevan had played in these woods all of his life, and knew them well.
Kaylan stopped at the edge of the road, bent down onto one knee and looked closely at the tracks in the dirt. “What do you see?” he asked.
Trevan hated it when he did that. Kaylan was 5 years older than him. His father had taught him to track, and now he was teaching Trevan. He knew that his brother saw some kind of tracks in the dusty road but he could hardly see any tracks at all. The road was seldom used. Once or twice a week they would see someone on it. Usually in groups of two or three on horseback, or riding in a cart or buggy of some kind. The low morning sun angle showed up some horseshoe prints and wagon wheel tracks, but these were not recent. He knew that these were the tracks that Kaylan expected him to see. There had to be something else. There were definitely no deer tracks. He was anxious to shoot his first deer. Then he saw it. “Rabbit tracks!” he said. “They are right here next to the edge of the road.”
Then Kaylan asked, “And what was he doing?”
Trevan looked closer. After studying them for a minute he shook his head and said, “There is no way to tell. I see a couple of hops and then it gets all jumbled up. I guess he was just standing around.”
“Don’t just look at the track,” Kaylan said. “Look at everything else around them and try to think like a rabbit.”
Trevan laughed. “How am I supposed to know what a rabbit is thinking?” He looked more closely at the side of the road. There was some young grass and, “He was munching on the grass!”
“Yes, and then something frightened him. See here? He stood up on his hind legs to get a better view and then he ran off in that direction.”
“Let’s see where he went,” Trevan said as he started walking in that direction.
Kaylan said, “No, let’s see if we can find out what frightened him.” He crossed to the other side of the road and started looking around, being careful not to disturb any tracks that he might find there. It wasn’t long before he called to Trevan, who was looking several feet away. “Here it is. I think it may have been a fox. No! Look at those three claws. This was no fox. This was a kobold!”
Trevan jumped up and drew his crossbow. He had it cocked and a bolt loaded and readied before his brother could say, “Don’t worry; they only come out at night. I think the sunlight hurts their eyes or something. And, besides, it looks like there was only one of them. They would never attack anything bigger than they are unless they outnumber them by at least two to one.”
“How big are they?”
“The biggest ones are not much over three feet tall. From these tracks, it looks like this one is only a little over two feet.”
That calmed Trevan down a bit. But still. He had heard tales of kobold raids, and of their evil ways. He wasn’t sure how much of it was true, but he had no desire to meet up with one face to face. “Let’s go find a deer,” he said.
“Trevan …” Kaylan started to say something else but stopped.
“What?”
“Trevan, I’m going to follow these tracks back to his lair. Why don’t you go back to the cabin? Tell Father what I am doing. He will understand. I’ll be back in a day or two.  We’ll go deer hinting when I return, I promise.”
Trevan said, “Well I don’t understand. Kobolds should be avoided, not chased! And what if you do find their lair? They say that kobolds put traps all around the entrances to their lairs. That would just be too dangerous. Don’t do it!”
Kaylan thought for a minute, then said, “Have you ever seen a dragon?”
“I think I saw one fly over the cabin a couple of years ago. You know that. Anyway, what has that got to do with anything?”
“They say that kobolds are distant cousins of dragons. If I can learn more about kobolds, it might help me kill a dragon.”
“Kill a dragon? Are you nuts? First you are chasing kobolds, and now you are killing dragons! You don’t know what you are talking about!”
Kaylan said, “Our mother wasn’t killed by a fever.”
Trevan stopped fuming and stared at his brother.
Kaylan continued, “Shortly after you were born, a red dragon landed beside our cabin. We had a couple of cows then and Mother was milking one of them. Father and I were standing right over there.” He pointed to a spot in the clearing several hundred yards from the cabin. “I guess the dragon was hungry. The horse ran off, the dragon pushed mother aside and casually ate both cows. I don’t think it saw you. Mother had laid you on some hay beside a large log. While he was eating the second cow he started to step on the log. Mother screamed at him. Father and I were running to her as fast as we could. I couldn’t hear what she said, but the dragon simply turned and stepped on her. Then he flew away while he finished eating the cow. Father said he wanted to wait until you were older to tell you the truth. He didn’t want you to be afraid. I guess you are old enough now. Anyway, that is what happened and that is the day I swore to kill that dragon. I am planning on leaving next spring. If I don’t find that one, I’ll kill as many as I can.”
“I want to kill dragons too. I’m going with you when you leave.”
“You are too young, and Father will need you if I am not here.”
Trevan thought for a second. Then he said, “Okay, but I am going with you to track this kobold.”
“All right,” he said, “but keep your eyes open. You are right about kobolds setting traps.”