These Roads We Walk - Chapter Three - Another Walk In The Park
Author's Note: The beginning of this was difficult creatively to write. But people seem to like it, I guess. I'm trying to develop Jezra more without turning her into the typical heroine, because she really isn't, and neither is Twen. God, one day I swear I will be able to write Deekin and his speech well.
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JEZRA
"No hurts Deekin!" the kobold squealed again, it's scaley body contorting as though inflicted with torment on the dirt robe, and Jezra approached, more curious than alarmed. It was small, runty even for one of it's kind, and it's scales an odd tarnished gold. The tunic it wore might once have been some sort of flamboyant red material, although it was now stained and torn, and it wore a small if bulging pack, from which a trail of assorted trinkets and bits of trash seemed to leak out of the forest.
It -- it might have been male, but who could tell with kobolds? -- peered out between it's small taloned hands and gave a yelp of alarm at her nearness, leaping to it's feet and nearly toppling over again. The look of fright, indignation, and embarassment she could read in it's eyes and odd face might not have been comical if her previous experiences with the creatures had been anything but. "Please," it begged in it's grating voice, clasping it's hands (paws?) together and wringing them plaintively before it, all the while shuffling nervously backward, "please, no troubles! No troubles! Deekin not wants any troubles!"
"Ain't a soul alive wants more troubles than they got." Gunderson put it, apparently unconcerned, shedding a handful of lint from the interior of his pockets over the side of the carriage.
Before Jezra could think of a suitable response under the imploring, nervous gaze of the creature, the bushes on the side of the road shuddered violently again, this time disgorging Phineas, with Jacobson, puffing, on his heels. The kobold shrieked in alarm, and the horses rolled their eyes in fear in response, pawing anxiously at the ground. The staggering, rolling manner with which Phineas left remained -- what had changed was the subtle quality of menace behind it, and in the twitching sneer of his lips. Jacobson, for his part, merely looked as though he were perhaps wishing the robes he had chosen to wear today were of a darker colour.
"Disgusting creature." Phineas spat flatly, scrubbing the back of one knobbly hand across his lips. "Reminds me of why I never bothered to leave the city before. Vermin control!"
At this, the kobold bristled slightly. "Deekin not bes vermin! Deekin bes great and noble bard!" At this, Jezra thought she saw Errigal's interest prickle slightly, and the gnome leaned forward on the balls of her feet.
"Aye, I bet you are." A smirk transformed Phineas's features into something breathtakingly ugly. "I said the same thing to a ready lass or two with an echo between her legs in my own day. I think the fact that I never burned a village or two to the ground might have helped my case."
Deekin drew it -- him? -- self up to his full height and levelled a glare, the effect slightly ruined by the tenseness in his body; for the first time, Jezra noticed she had mistaken caution for fear. For all the kobold raids her village had suffered through in her childhood, she had never known one to stand it's ground when threatened with more than two nervous farmers armed with shovels. "You reminds Deekin of old drunk that comes stumbling into Old Master's cave one day." He paused, and seemed to be savouring the memory. "Old Master says he not tastes any better coming up than going down."
The snide amusement vanished from Phineas's face, and his upper lip curled agressively. "I'll fry your liver until it bursts from your eyesockets you disrespectful -- "
"Children, children!" Jezra cried, hovering between amusement and alarm. "Settle down. No need for name callin', aye? We're all just travellers on this same lonely road, ain't we, lookin' to get by?" Without any trouble. she added silently.
"Ar." said Gunderson, again. He had clambered down from the seat by now, and was soothing the horses with a practiced hand.
"Deekin just wants to be getting by, yes!" the kobold bobbed his head enthusiastically, and although he kept a wary eye on Phineas, he half-turned in Jezra's direction. "He has to be findings his Boss, he does, or she not be very happy, he be thinking. So, we, um, we say goodbyes, yes?"
"He called me a drunkard." Phineas spat, red-rimmed eyes rolling in Jezra's direction. "I won't be spoken to that, not by any man or beast alive." There was something sullen and bitterly angry in his tone.
Aye, 'cause it ain't like it's true or nothin'. Jezra sniffed slightly, inhaling the scent of body odor and ale fumes.
"I don't know of any caves about the area that don't play host to gnolls or goblins. Nothing that would employ a kobold." Errigal spoke up, and the kobold turned towards her, giving a slight start when he noticed her face.
"Deekin knows that." he said in a pained tone, gazing at them as though they were stupid. "Old Master lives in cave. New Master lives . . . " he looked blank for a moment, then waved a claw expansively. " . . . somewheres. That what Deekin be trying to find out. That why he has to go. Well. That, and . . . er . . . "
"Babies to eat?" Jacobson said shrilly, still standing half-behind his beloved professor. Jezra doubted he had ever seen a kobold out of a textbook before. "Books to burn?"
"No." Deekin replied, more annoyed now than anything, and he pointed past them. "Deekin be trying to get away from those."
Jezra spun around in time to catch the first in the chest.
And then things really went to hell.
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DEEKIN
Humans could be so stupid sometimes.
Kobolds would never have allowed an entire fist of gnolls to sneak up on them from behind. And if they had simply allowed him to hurry on when he'd asked, if the unpleasant smelling fellow and his loud companion hadn't turned on him when he'd stumbled into them in the woods, then they probably wouldn't have even crossed paths anyway, let alone suddenly found themselves neck-deep in rank fur and sharp blades.
The creatures that had been pursuing him for the past hour after Deekin had made the mistake of poking his snout inquiringly into an unfortunately occupied cave set in the forest floor, yelping and snarling to one another with savage glee as they made a game out of chasing the already fatigued kobold, spilled out of the forest in a tide of grinning muzzles and bristling weapons, lighting on the nearest human like starved dogs. Deekin heard her grunt as two tackled her, but he didn't have time to spare a sympathetic ear for the screams that would undoubtably follow as the ten remaining gnolls descended.
He was still drained from the battle atop Undrentide, and he felt foolish now for not allowing himself the rest he knew he'd needed. Even the Boss often said all things required sleep. Now, however, he was left jumping frantically backwards out of the fray, frantically trying to find a stray bundle of bolts in his pack that might have eluded him. Not so long ago, perhaps, he might have fled and left the humans to deal with the creatures.
As he was trying to carve a niche for himself in civilised society, however, he felt that might be frowned upon.
The blade of a crude halberd cut the air in front of his snout, and Deekin yelped in fright, leaping backwards and allowing his pack to spill to the ground as he scrabbled instead for the dagger tied to his belt. If the gnoll that advanced was smiling or snarling was impossible to tell, it's intent was unmistakeable as hostile. The halberd was swung again, and Deekin leapt to one side, frantically carving at the fur-covered muscled arm with his dagger. The creature barely snorted in response as it reversed the swing of the weapon, and Deekin was forced to drop; even if kobolds were a thousand times cleverer than a gnoll on the gnoll's best day, a gnoll would always be the more powerful warrior.
Which was fine. Deekin was happier using his brain and feet any day than a large weapon meant to compensate for the slowness of both.
He darted forward under the extended weapon and struck upward with the dagger. The gnoll's broad chest was covered in a battered and burnt looking boiled leather jerkin, but the underside of it's arm was unguarded, and the dagger's blade sank to the hilt in the soft flesh of the beast's armpit. This time the creature notice the attack, and threw back it's head and let out an eerie cacophony of pained yelps and shrieks, trying to back away on it's powerful but awkward legs as Deekin gave the dagger one final twist before pulling it out. The gnoll gave a disconcertingly human moan of pain as it briefly examined the wound, arm clutched close to it's side and halberd trailing in the dirt, before it's baleful yellow gaze fixed on the kobold again, muzzle wrinkling in an unmistakeable snarl.
Before it could gather itself for an attack, Deekin sprang forward and clamped his jaws around it's arm, sinking his small, needle-sharp teeth in up to the gumline.
He barely had time to reflect on how awful the taste was -- didn't gnolls ever bathe or groom their fur? -- before he found himself flung through the air like a sack of grain.
Deekin landed at the feet of the tall, scraggly, smelly human who had verbally attacked him earlier, and the man leaned down and bellowed, "Stay out of the way!" before stepping over Deekin, a long quarterstaff in hand, and engaging the closest gnoll.
Alarm momentarily forgotten in the face of curiosity, Deekin rolled over to watch the confrontation.
Rather than falling like a piece of tired old meat as expected, the man swung the quarterstaff in a vicious downward arc, connecting solidly with the tender snout of the gnoll. The creature barely had time to register the pain before the staff reversed course and slammed with surprising strength into the side of it's head, caving in it's skull with a sickening crack, and Deekin suddenly found himself scrabbling aside as the gnoll toppled to the ground with the barest of whimpers. He regarded the old man with a little grudging respect as he climbed to his feet; at least he hadn't fled like the other, younger human into the false safety of the carriage.
The horses had gone berserk, driven into a panic by the gnolls, and one more creature was felled as one animal's hoof clipped it on the temple as it reared, twisting and straining to break free of it's reins. Deekin could hear the other old human yelling, although wether trying in vain to restore some sort of calm to his horses or in fright and pain, Deekin didn't know.
What he did know was he was rapidly becoming glad he had run into the humans when he did.
Snarling with an almost animal-like ferocity himself, the old human swung the staff again and again, wading into the thick of the remaining gnolls without regard to his own safety. As Deekin gamely hurried forward to help, he heard the man give a sudden unintelligible shout, and in a brilliant flash of green light, the nearest gnoll stumbled back with an enraged howl, clawing at it's face and doing further damage to it's eyes as thick acid dripped down it's features, filling the air with the stench of liquefying flesh and melting fur.
Another series of pained, shocked yelps drew Deekin's attention precariously away even as he slashed at the tendons in the legs of another gnoll. The female he'd have thought dead for sure was on her feet; one gnoll lay dead on the ground, a fistful of vicious looking darts protruding from one eye, and the other that had attacked her was backing away, lupine head bowed submissively, whimpering in confused pain as it clawed at another dart protruding from the thick ruff of fur at the side of it's throat, leathers already painted black with blood. Incredibly, she leapt to engage it, hands now empty, and attacked it's eyes with hooked fingers of one hand while the other found the dart and wrenched it in further. There was no room for finesse -- that Deekin understood. Here was only raw survival.
That was when the halberd hit him across the shoulders.
The pain was unlike anything Deekin had ever experienced. Although he had taken his share of knocks and bruises along the journey he'd embarked on with the Boss and her taciturn companion, they had always taken the brunt of the damage. This pain was his whole world, and he didn't even register the wetness running down his back as he shrieked ceaselessly, thin scales no match for honed blade. He pitched forward, writhing in the dirt road, and felt as much as saw the long shadow falling across him.
Deekin squeezed his eyes shut. Somehow, he didn't think the humans would bother to pay the fee to have him returned to the living.
But the killing strike that would have surely taken off his head didn't come.
Instead, amidst the snarls and shouts, he heard one voice raised in arcane chanting.
Daring to open one eye and twisting his head to the side despite the pain, Deekin saw the disfigured gnome he'd all but forgotten carving strange patterns in the air with her hands, face serene in concentration.
A second later, the gnolls began attacking each other.
Although they had surely been wounded in the attack so far, although the entire thing had likely taken less than five minutes, blood and wound were forgotten and weapons fell to the ground as they rounded on one another, snarling and snapping with powerful jaws, heads darting forward for throats. Deekin watched in distant amazement as the creatures surged back towards the woods, clawing and rending at their own flesh, eyes wild with pain and confusion. The gnome's face turned towards him, and Deekin thought she might have winked.
"Oh." he breathed. "That bes good."
And then he passed out.
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He wasn't sure what awoke him. The foul taste in his mouth, or the insistant voice in his ear. Deekin's limbs felt as though they were weighted down with stones, and his head felt fuzzy and disconnected from his body.
"Wake up. Wake up, now."
Reluctantly, Deekin opened one eye. Somehow, the ground view of scuffled earth, prancing horse's hooves, and distant greenery wasn't want he expected the afterlife to look like.
Then his gaze focused on the human female kneeling beside him, and the empty bottle clutched in her fist, and he understood, as well as recognising the taste. Of course, hadn't the Boss patiently poured many a vial of the same healing fluids down his throat over the course of their journeys?
"Ah." she said, seeing his eye open. "Good. Awake, are you?"
"Yes." Deekin said, gratefully.
"Good." she said. "Good." And then her other hand shifted in front of his eyes, and Deekin saw the fistful of bloodied darts she held as she smiled. "I think it's time we had a little talk, you and I. Don't you?"
Deekin swallowed. Suddenly, he wished, as he had countless times before, he was back in Old Master's cave, even if he was being rolled on or trying to pretend he didn't smell passed gas. Trying his best to look cooperative, he nodded.