"THREE!"
Dorn threw open the door to what seemed like the mine's mess hall, surprising the group of kobolds inside. Jomz fired the crossbow he had stolen at the kobolds, hitting one in the leg. He then threw the halfspear, pinning that same kobold to the far wall.
Dorn followed his lead and threw one of his swords. The weapon flew fast the head of one of the kobolds, missing by inches, and then stuck itself to the wall next to the pinned kobold. Dorn threw the other sword in frustration, hitting the kobold he had missed square in the face, pinning that one too to the far wall.
In his short moment of victory, he had forgotten the other kobolds, which had gotten their crossbows loaded quickly. A bolt whizzed by his left ear and he know they could not survive the attack for long. He quickly flipped over a table to act as a shield between them and the crossbows.
"Good thinking," Silah complemented him.
"Thanks, but it won't do us much good back here," he complained. A bolt pierced the table next to his face. "We need a plan now!"
"Here," Jomz said, handing Dorn the crossbow he had stolen, "Cover me." Dorn nodded in agreement and then prepared himself. In a flash, Dorn jumped up and began firing shots at the kobolds. He managed to kill one, piecing its chest, but he wasn't really aiming. He just needed to give Jomz enough time to do his job.
Jomz had circled around, flanking the kobolds as Dorn kept their attention to the problem at hand. At last he was behind them. Dorn ducked beneath the table as he saw Jomz's sword rise. He knew Jomz liked it bloody. Possibly too bloody. He pulled Silah down as she tried to get up to watch.
"Trust me," he said, "You don't want to watch." A few seconds later, Jomz gave them the okay. Silah wasn't too sickened by the sight of the dead kobolds, practically in hundreds of pieces. It was the knowledge that Jomz would actually be as low as to go to unneeded lengths to kill his enemies that made her feel ill. In fact, she thought she could feel her head grow slowly warmer.
They cleaned up the mess the best they could with what they could find. It was at that point that the group started rubbing their foreheads almost simultaneously. Dorn was the first to notice.
"You guys okay?" he asked.
"I feel like I have a small fever," Lor commented.
"Strange," Silah said, "So do I."
"As do I," said Jomz, "Dorn?"
"The same, I'm afraid," he said. "What is causing it?"
"Could it…could it be that illness the peasant was talking about?" Silah suggested.
"I've got no other explanation."
"Well, that's just great," Jomz exclaimed, throwing down the halfspear he had just cleaned. "We fight blood-thirsty monsters all day just to be struck ill by some pathetic parasite. That's our luck for you."
"I call it irony," Lor laughed, massaging his still burning head.
"Can you do anything about it, Silah?" Dorn asked the cleric.
"I can probably calm the symptoms but I can't fully heal us without knowledge of the disease," she answered.
"Please do so. We'll probably need all the sleep we can get tonight so we can get to the bottom of this."
Silah went around the room, placing her hand on each man's head and softly chanting incantations. The burning lessened and the group soon found sleep.