Chapter 2: Undying Greed

In the end, everything happened quicker than he had anticipated. He had already known this was no longer the Menzhome he had been to in the past, this vaguely open-minded town on the border to proper human civilization, with mighty Darpatia just a few miles to the south. The glances he received had been too frightful for that, there had been too many whispers. And yet, the speed with which the town turned against him was still genuinely shocking.

In one moment, Kobold had spoken to one of the beggars. There were fewer here than what he was used to from a town of this size and they were less forthcoming, with the first he had spoken to being a welcome outlier. The next two had gladly taken his coin without revealing anything of value aside from exaggerated rumours. One of them, however, also spoke of his curious questions to someone else, as Kobold had quickly realized when the thugs had him cornered. They had appeared not out of nowhere, he had been keeping an eye on them for a few minutes before they made their move, but even then, he had been certain that the nearby city guard would intervene, especially since he was accompanied by two humans.

And yet, the nearby guardsman just glanced at the scene before walking on, his attention clearly elsewhere. It was clear to him what these thugs wanted, they felt threatened by his presence, they wanted someone to blame for the miserable state of their city. Kobold knew some of his kind who would have been all too glad to be this scapegoat, to cater to those whims and leave town instead of risking greater harm, but he was not in the mood for that. This was not even about pride, for Menzhome and the strange happenings here were his sole lead at the moment. He could not afford to leave.

It was a bit of stubbornness, yes, but his kind had to be stubborn or else they would have died out centuries ago, when humans like those that were cornering him now had been slaughtering goblins by the thousands. It had served him well in the past, but now here he was, with a broken cane and no further options. They had punched Relin in the face already and though they shied away from harming Abigale for now, it was not as if she could do much to aid them here. She was a mage, yes, but not the flashy sort. If it’d be just one of them, she could likely frighten him, but an entire group was more likely to just tear her limb from limb in a frenzy should she reveal her powers.

Then however, between the familiar shouting and the crude threats he knew all too well from people like this group of thugs, something unexpected happened again. Just like how it had been humans who had him cornered now, a different group of humans appeared. They were led by a tall man with vaguely Nivesian features, although he bore only a passing resemblance to Eret, with a healthier tan and a fuller beard. By his side stood a brown-haired woman, proudly wearing a white and green tabard over her fur coat. While the man seemed more like a blade for hire, she was a soldier, not from Menzhome, but rather one of the duke’s own. They were flanked by another hired blade, if he had to guess, this time with a slight hint of Tulamid blood in his veins, as well as a thin, shivering man with a thin, pointed moustache. While the former carried a sword by his side, the latter was notably unarmed and given how clearly out of place he felt in this situation, Kobold assumed that he was a visitor from the south, a merchant or a minor nobleman. Just like Kobold, he had chosen the worst possible time for his trip to the Meadows.

The humans argued back and forth and for a moment, Kobold was certain the newcomers would just leave again. He would have left for certain had their positions been reversed. And yet, the sellsword crossed his arms and shot the leader of the thugs a fierce glare. “We’re not going to leave”, he growled. This clearly alarmed the woman by his side. “Iiro, are you certain about this?”, she asked. She did not seem scared, Kobold could see the conflict on her face, but he knew at once, had it been her choice, she would have left them.

“Sir Maximus would have stayed as well, you know that”, the sellsword reminded her sternly. Kobold had no idea who this Maximus was, but she clearly respected him a great deal, for all defiance immediately faded from her expression. “Unfortunately you’re right”, she mumbled. “You heard him, you sorry lot. Get lost”

“Or what, missy?”, the leader of the thugs growled. That was a mistake, as her expression and the reactions from his own men clearly proved. Unlike him, they had recognized her colours. “Boss, this one’s working for the duke…”, one of them warned him, but the brute merely chuckled. “I don’t give a flying fuck”, he growled. “The duke’s all the way up in Trallop. It’s the baron we need to be worried about”

He didn’t even realize that he had said more than he should have. Though still hostile, there was some curiosity on the woman’s face. “Why would you say that?”, she hissed. “The baron used to be good to you sorry lot, better than he should have been. Why would you be worried about him then?” She was probably clever enough for the whole group of them, but Kobold could see right through her intentions. These people, they were here to do the same thing he had set out to do. They were gathering information about the baron. Perhaps this encounter was even more fortunate than he had previously believed.

“Good?”, one of the thugs sighed and for a second, he no longer seemed like a hateful son of a bitch to Kobold, but rather a tired, pitiful man. “The baron’s a bloodsucking fiend, I’m telling ya!” This earned him several sharp glares, especially from his leader, but he remained defiant. “What?”, he growled. “I’m tired of this. You think the baron will go easy on us just because we silence a few nosy rats? My next-door neighbour had both of her sons taken a fortnight ago. Maybe next week it’ll be mine”

“You’re scared”, the Nivesian spoke, an assessment Kobold agreed with. Terrified would describe it even better, for this man was basically reeking of fear. They all were, now that he had a moment to look at them. Pitiful, pathetic men, but scared as well, probably rightfully so. That was the one thing about them he could fully understand, for he would be scared witless too in their situation.

“Of course I bloody am”, the man growled. “The baron’s moody these days. Doesn’t like people talking about him or his daughter. Every time someone does, people die here in Menzhome. Sure, the guard says they just disappear, but that ain’t true. We all know it ain’t” He shook his head, his shoulder now hanging low, every trace of anger and hatred gone from his face.

“What are you doing, mate?”, his leader hissed, but the other man only shot him a mild glare. “What are we doing here?”, he asked in return. “You think the baron will go easy on us if we beat up this rat? That lass here is one of the duke’s. Wager we can tell her what we know” He seemed to be alone in his hopes, for his leader was openly dismissive of this idea. “We know nothing”, he growled. “Rumours. The duke hates them and I won’t repeat them, so let’s keep it at that”

Slowly, he looked from the newcomers down at Kobold. “Bah, you can keep the goblin”, he spat. “Better make myself rare before the guard shows up. You should all do that” He walked past the new group and as Kobold expected, they did nothing to stop him. His men scattered as well, but before he left, the brute leant closer towards the woman, the one wearing the duke’s colours. “I don’t know how much you think you can do on your own, but at least send word to the duke. Things are dire in Menzhome, worse than you may think”

Before he left, he glared at Kobold one last time, who met his gaze defiantly. “And you better make yourself rare, rat”, he barked. “If I see you ever again, I’m gonna…” Kobold bared his teeth at him, but what actually made him pause was the Nivesian, who shot a chilling glare. “You better sod off now”, he snarled and he did not need to continue, for the thugs scattered at once. Their leader dropped Kobold’s broken cane in front of him before hurrying off, hopefully never to be seen again.

“Bastards…”, the goblin merely mumbled. This was hardly the first time a group of humans had assaulted him, but it was startling to see such behaviour this far to the south, as well as the brutality with which they had attacked Relin as well when the boy had tried to step in. With a mild, but cautious expression, he turned to the human who had stepped in to aid him. To his surprise, the man leant down, reaching out for him, though Kobold could see hesitation on his face. It told him all he needed to know. This was a man with certain principles which he would put even above personal prejudice. Like many in this part of the world, he had no love for goblins, not a particularly surprising sentiment given that most goblin here in the Meadows were bandits or worse. But he had not just stepped in out of the kindness of his heart and that made him useful. As such, after considering his options for a second, Kobold grabbed the hand, allowing the man to pull him back to his feet. “Thanks mate”, he growled. “I owe you one”

“Don’t mention it”, the man replied. “Would have done the same for anyone else” It wasn’t a lie, surprisingly so. Perhaps this man was an idiot, but a refreshing one at that. Kobold gave him a toothy smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be grateful”, he replied. “The name’s Kobold. Behind me there’s Relin and Abigale, my companions” As he spoke, Relin dragged himself back up again, while Abigale gave them a curt nod.

“I’m Iiro, Iiro Redal”, the man introduced himself. “This is Joanna of Duke Waldemar’s household guard, then we got Nadim of Broonsgorge and…” Before he could introduce his fourth companion, the shivering Southerner took a step forward, almost between Iiro and Kobold. “Vittorio Crawford, mage and bon vivant, as they say in fair Horasia” Though he surely had the looks of one of those Horasian twats, his accent was different, not as soft as theirs, slightly closer to the Middenrealm speech. An Almadani perhaps?

“You’re a mage…”, Abigale gasped and Vittorio gave her a genuinely pleasant and winning smile. It was the kind that had to be practised for hours upon hours in front of a mirror. When he was younger, Kobold had tried the same, only to give up in frustration once he realized that his kind, with all their teeth, was hardly made for smiling. That was before he found out that a smile could be used for more than just winning people over. Unlike Iiro, who seemed honest enough, Kobold decided to be wary of this Almadani at once, for his manner of speech, his gestures and expressions, even the greedy look in his eyes, was all too familiar.

“And so are you, mylady”, he intoned, as he raised his left hand, pulling the glove from it in one swift move. There was a sigil on it, ink burned into his skin. Kobold had seen the very same sigil before, on Abigale’s hand to be precise. Every guild-trained mage had one, always representing the academy they studied at, a symbol of their status, but also something to be wary of, something to make them stand out from ordinary humans. Though traditionalists among the guilds considered it disgraceful, some mages, such as Abigale, often covered it up by wearing gloves, but there were those who carried it proudly with them as well. “Or did you think I would not recognize a fellow mage?”

Abigale shook her head, regaining her composure quickly. “I did not expect to meet a mage in this part of the world”, she admitted. “And a fellow graduate of Grangor at that” She pulled her glove off, revealing indeed the very same sigil Vittorio wore, much to his surprise. “Another illusionist!”, he exclaimed. “What a fateful meeting. Iiro, my friend, I am glad we stepped in”

The woman, Joanna, rolled her eyes at his pompous tone. “You didn’t do anything, mage”, she sighed, as she walked past him and towards Kobold, who gave her a grateful nod. “Listen, I didn’t want to intervene, but I’ll admit that this was the right thing to do”, she added. He could understand her well, he even shared her outlook, but then again, Kobold was the first to admit that the world would be a pretty damn dreary place if all would deal with such situations as he would have.

“No hard feelings”, he assured her. “You helped, that’s what matters. And I mean it, I owe you one. So, what do you say we get off the streets. I got a few people at a nearby inn whom I want to catch up with. Join me for a couple drinks and a proper chat, it’s the least I can do” Indeed, honest gratitude was in order. Those humans had helped him out of a sticky situation and a little favour could go a long way here.

Just from his first impression, it was clear that Iiro wasn’t the sharpest human he had ever met. There had to be something in his favour, perhaps courage or good instincts, because when he spoke, the others listened. Joanna meanwhile was no leader, probably used to a position of lower authority. She was intelligent and notably observant, but seemed content with letting Iiro take charge. Nadim meanwhile was quiet, likely a newer addition to the group and not yet familiar with each of them. And Vittorio… under other circumstances, a mage would have been the one to look out for the most, an uncertainty at best and a threat at worst. But it was truly fortunate that he had attended the same school as Abigale. Kobold trusted her enough with keeping an eye on him. “That sounds acceptable”, Iiro agreed. “We’ve been looking for a place to stay, might as well see if that inn of yours is any good”

It was settled then, they would spend some more time together and perhaps Kobold could learn more about these people, about their apparent interest in the baron. They were an odd group, here by choice and not chance. In these days, in this dreary city, this pointed towards one thing only, but before he would confront them about it, he had to be certain.

With a sigh, the goblin looked down upon his broken cane. It had done him good service against Elbaran and even if it truly wasn’t anything inherently special, it had been crafted well and it hadn’t been cheap. Just leaving it there felt like a waste, so with an aching sigh, he leant down to pick it up. There was another cane waiting for him in the carriage, old but sturdy, which he had kept precisely for such an occasion. The last thing he wanted to do was to walk any farther than he absolutely had to with that leg of his.

“You alright, kid?”, he asked as Relin walked past him. The boy had surprised him back there. When the thugs had them cornered, they would have probably been willing to let him go with a good scare, but he had immediately tried to stand up against them for Kobold’s sake. They had decked him in the face in return and it would leave a bruise, but his efforts were commendable. To Kobold’s slight relief, Relin gave him a nod. “Could be better, could be worse”, he replied in a cheerful tone. “I’m just glad nothing bad happened. Dangig would have done the same”

For a second just there, Kobold was about to correct him, he was about to leave a scathing remark about what an insufferable arse Dangig had been, but something made him hesitate. Perhaps it was Relin’s bravery, or perhaps the memory of Dangig, who had tried to fight off the vampire Nadarie to protect a goblin he couldn’t even stand, but Kobold remained silent. “Just make sure to know your limits, kid”, he warned him. “I don’t want your blood on my conscience, so don’t play the hero unless you’re certain you can pull it off”

Relin gave him a nod, before he hurried after Iiro and his group. The Nivesian was walking ahead, with Joanna and Nadim close behind him, whereas Vittorio was still lingering, a bright, almost genuine smile directed towards Abigale, who reciprocated it with one of her own, charming, but hollow. “I must say, Adepta Sithko, seeing you here gives me hope for this backwater of a duchy. It is truly refreshing to see a fellow illusionist around at last”

Abigale’s smile grew thinner and a brief hint of glee appeared on her face. “I have to correct you, Adeptus Crawford”, she spoke, not without visibly enjoying this moment. “I’m not an illusionist” Vittorio remained confused for only a second, before he realized what she meant. “So… you’re one of those…”, he gasped, which she confirmed with an exhausted nod. “No wonder you don’t seem familiar. Though I have nothing but respect for the handful of students who come to Grangor to learn about ghosts and spirits, I have never quite mingled with them”

“Few of your ilk have, Adeptus Crawford”, Abigale replied. “Though I must admit, you do seem familiar. We attended the academy at the same time, I believe. That was before you grew that moustache… and I believe you used to be blonde” Vittorio’s eyes widened and this time, it took him a moment to regain his composure. “I… what a pleasant surprise to meet a… classmate of mine, Adepta Sithko, though I’m afraid I still cannot quite remember you…”, he stuttered, his smile a slight bit nervous now. There had to be embarrassing memories flashing through his mind right now and his gaze showed how nervous he had to be about someone actually remembering him, perhaps knowing a dirty secret or two which he had tried all too hard to bury. Kobold had been in the same situation before during his youth, before he had learned a few valuable lessons. “Maybe we can… catch up over a bottle of wine later?”, Vittorio asked and Abigale gave him a quick nod. “If you’re paying, Adeptus Crawford”, she chirped.

Another nervous smile, followed by a quick nod, before Vittorio tipped his hat at them. Then, he hurried off, suddenly swift to follow after Iiro and the rest of his companions, while Kobold walked slightly behind them, his leg aching already. “So, you know him”, the goblin spoke, his tone low, barely more than a whisper. Abigale flashed him a smile, surprisingly good-natured for her usual disposition. “Fleetingly”, she confirmed. “I am not surprised he doesn’t remember me, for we barely spoke back then, but I’ve always had a good memory”

“Is he dangerous?”, Kobold asked and this time, Abigale shook her head. “He wasn’t back then”, she admitted. “I’ve always found him insufferable. He’s a loudmouth and I don’t think that much has changed about him” Her expression grew sterner. “Beware of him”, she warned him. “He had a certain reputation. Not just a liar, but a con man” Kobold gave her a thin smirk. “You don’t say”, he chuckled. “Takes one to know one, Abby. If that’s all there is to him, we’ll be alright”

Now with four new acquaintances by their side, Kobold and his companions made their way back to the inn. Without his cane each step was painful, but he had gotten through worse and he made sure to bear through it silently, so that he wouldn’t show weakness in front of Iiro and his group. They might have some use to him yet, so he didn’t want them to think less of him. With clenched teeth, he braved the brief walk back, though he could barely suppress a sigh as he saw the inn, with their carriage tended to by a few stablehands right next to it.

Impatiently, Kobold limped towards the carriage, nearly shoving one of the stablehands, a lanky boy barely half his age, to the side. Under the youngster’s protests, he began to dig through his belongings until he found his spare cane, tucked to the side of the carriage. Though he had cursed the extra weight in the past, now he couldn’t reach for it fast enough and a relieved smile appeared on his face as he leant on it. Old as it was, the wood was reliable. This one would carry him far once again, he just knew it.

Now relieved, he rejoined the others as they entered the tavern, walking side by side with Iiro and Relin. As expected, barely a third of the seats in the decently sized taproom were filled, mostly with locals as it seemed. Perhaps a handful of strangers from other parts of the Middenrealm were staying here, a pathetic sight for a city as dependent on commerce and travellers as Menzhome. And yet, Kobold noticed something else as well from the moment he stepped in. There was the distinct smell of good food and judging by the bottles he spotted on one of the tables there were still expensive wines in stock, from Arania and even from Vinsalt. The decline this city was suffering through, it couldn’t have happened more than six months ago, probably way less. There was still some wealth here despite the dramatic absence of so many important foreign guests.

At the same time, people such as the innkeeper who now approached them were clearly desperate enough to look at a goblin with anything other than open contempt. This particular specimen was a lanky man with pale skin and even less hair than what Kobold was used to from a human. “Welcome!”, the man exclaimed, loud enough to gain the attention of a few locals who clearly looked at him with less joy. “I… forgive me, but a few newcomers mentioned a goblin about an hour ago. You wouldn’t happen to belong to them?”

“They belong to me”, Kobold corrected him. “I presume you gave them a table?” The innkeep was quick to nod. “Not just a table, good man”, he spoke, his friendliness as fake as it was obnoxious. “That, uh, dwarven gentleman who has been accompanying them, he drove a hard bargain. I ended up giving you one of my back rooms so that you can talk without being disturbed. You are a merchant, I wager?”

Kobold gave him a look as long and distrustful as the one he received in return. “Sure”, he spoke, accompanied by a shrug. “Lead the way” He glanced at the sizeable group that had gathered around him. “And I suppose it won’t be a problem to arrange for more chairs and a couple drinks for my new mates, yes?”

As expected, it wasn’t a problem, which only further proved how close Menzhome had to be to actually collapsing. It was one of the richest cities in Meadows but just like the rich merchant cities on the coast of the Bornland, it needed commerce to survive. Those thugs back in the alley, they hardly noticed it, but people like this innkeeper, those who actually mattered, they knew what was happening. The city could get through this winter just fine, but come next spring, if merchants from the south started avoiding it, travelling around or straight past it, Menzhome would wither into yet another glorified outpost, like half of the cities in northern Darpatia or in the ever-quarreling county of Hartsteen.

Eret, Darbrek and Cilie were waiting for him in a surprisingly large back room, as the innkeeper had promised. His companions was the first to jump up, one hand hovering to where he’d usually keep his crossbow. “You’ve been away for long”, he growled, giving the newcomers a brief, but serious glare. “Trouble?”

“Of course there was”, Kobold muttered, just as Cilie spotted the bruise on Relin’s cheek. She jumped up, almost motherly concern on her face. “Gods, what happened?”, she gasped as she approached them. Just then, Darbrek looked up, having quietly brooded over a mug of ale until then. The dwarf took only the briefest of glances at them, calm as always. “Eh, sit down lass”, he spoke. “They’re alright, aren’t they?”

Kobold gave them a nod as he approached the long table that made up the majority of the room. “Indeed we are, my friend”, he confirmed, pointing one claw over his back, towards Iiro and his friends. “Thanks to them. A couple of thugs ambushed us for asking too many questions. Broke my cane and decked Relin in the face, but before anything worse could happen, those four intervened”

“Damn, this city is a shitshow”, Darbrek growled. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Come, taste some of that ale. For a human brew it ain’t half bad” With a smirk, Kobold approached the table, noticing how calm Darbrek was, how much concern he could see on Cilie’s face and how much distrust Eret was showing. The Nivesian was hiding it surprisingly well, but Kobold could read him like an open book. “And the four of you just happened to pass by?”, he asked, as Kobold took a seat right next to where he was standing. “Don’t be rude, boy”, the goblin hissed. “Sit down, let us talk”

Instead of reacting to him, Iiro gave Eret a wide, but clearly confrontational smile. “Pretty much, yeah”, he confirmed. “Or would you rather have us walk away in that situation?” Eret narrowed his eyes, just as Joanna gave Iiro a stern glare. “You want to discuss this out now, or shall we sit down first?”, she sighed.

“Nah”, Eret growled and slowly, almost begrudgingly, he extended a hand towards Iiro. “The goblin pays my bills”, he explained. “So thanks for saving his ass” Iiro narrowed his eyes, before grabbing the hand. “My pleasure”, he replied. “The name’s Iiro” Eret gave him a nod. “Eret”, he replied, his tone cold, but no longer as hostile as before. “And whatever your reason, I appreciate it”

“Well, I suppose their reason is clear”, Kobold intoned, now that everybody had taken a seat. “They heard why those thugs cornered us. I noticed that the very second they mentioned the baron, you lost all hesitation” He was looking at Iiro as he spoke and as expected, the sellsword was the least subtle of the lot. “Let’s set things straight between us. You did not just help me out of the kindness of your heart. Not particularly fond of goblins, are you?”

“Can you blame me?”, Iiro asked and to his credit, he didn’t even try to deny it. Kobold shook his head. “Not exactly”, he sighed. “But you’ll find me a far cry from those tribal savages you may have encountered, just like you seem a far cry from those Theatre Knight butchers. You helped me out and no matter your reason, I’m not an ungrateful man. Food and drinks for tonight are on me”

“Thank you”, Iiro replied. “And… you’re right. Them mentioning the baron got my attention” He was clearly not supposed to reveal this, as Joanna’s alarmed reaction proved. There was something within their dynamic that made him pause, as if there was something missing, or someone. This group, it lacked a clear leader and with their absence, neither Iiro nor Joanna seemed entirely certain who was actually calling the shots.

“Figured as much”, Kobold mumbled, as he leant back in his chair. Darbrek pushed one of the ales over to him, but the goblin took it only reluctantly, for he wanted to keep a clear head for the things to come. “The baron then… what do you know about him?”, Iiro asked. Kobold merely shrugged. “Personally? Not much”, he admitted. “Never met the man, but he seems hellbent on ruining his city”

“He used to be a loyal vassal to the duke”, Joanna interjected, which got Kobold’s attention. “Are you implying he’s no longer loyal?”, he asked, much to her chagrin. “I’m saying… this wouldn’t be the first person we meet who went through a rather… drastic change over the last few months” This was surprisingly straightforward. If he was right about her, she had to at least suspect that he knew more than he was willing to show.

“Tell me about it…”, the goblin mumbled. “Seems like the whole duchy has lost its bloody mind. Respectable citizens turning into blood-crazed killers, people getting abducted…” He let this one slip on purpose and much to his satisfaction, even Iiro picked up on it. “Everybody else seems to think they just go missing”, the sellsword growled. “You know who is taking them?”

To this, Kobold shook his head. “Honestly, no”, he admitted. “But given that you’re here with one of Duke Waldemar’s soldiers by your side, I presume my suspicions against the baron are not too far fetched” He did not tell them that it wasn’t the baron he believed to be behind this. Yes, Dustward of Mersley-Boarstribe was almost certainly a vampire, considering his drastic change of character, but it was his daughter whom Kobold was most suspicious of. Given Elbaran’s infatuation with her, she could very well be the queen he mentioned. At the very least, she was a solid lead.

“We fear the same”, Iiro confirmed, before he did something that took Kobold by surprise, no, outright baffled him. “We fear he might have been turned into a vampire” Joanna nearly choked on her ale as she heard him say these words and Kobold’s eyes widened at such unexpected honesty. “Not too long ago I met a woman who would have been very displeased about you using that word so freely”, he growled. “Not that I expected anyone to be that direct. I cannot tell if this is bravery or stupidity”

“You seem to have a low opinion of honesty, goblin”, Iiro remarked. “But I just don’t want to beat around the bush. You know why we’re here and as for you… you have gathered a rather odd group yourself. What other reason could you have for asking around so much? You had your suspicions about the baron already”

Kobold gave him a generous nod. “How astute”, he complimented him and it wasn’t even meant sarcastically. Though he was by no means a man of great honesty, he appreciated it in others. It made things far simpler, going forward. “Lucky for you, we knew what we’re up against already, or else you would have just freaked out half a dozen innocent travellers with your talk about vampires”, he stated. “But indeed, we’ve encountered those vampires before. I doubt we’re the only ones either, it’s not as if they’re trying to be subtle”

“Even the duke’s knows something is off”, Iiro confirmed. “He has sent us to investigate” If not for the woman by his side, Kobold would have had a hard time believing this claim. “For someone working for the Old Bear, you’re certainly an odd group”, he growled, before pointing one claw at Joanna. “Her, I can believe it. But why is the rest of you out here hunting for vampires?”

A sudden, confident smirk appeared on Iiro’s face. “You heard of Drakesfield?”, he asked and Kobold gave him a nod. “Been to the place myself a couple times. No more since the Banray closed the entire road, but it used to be a nice place. Cozy. I heard it got wiped out by magic, but I always thought that was just Banray hogwash. People don’t fear mages as they used to these days, so of course the mage-hunters start to blame every random tragedy on black magic”

“It’s not hogwash”, Iiro growled. “A black mage conducted a foul ritual in Drakesfield. We stopped him, me and Vittorio, alongside two elves and a druid, Nadim’s brother. We’re heroes now, or so I’ve been told” That, honestly, changed a lot. Kobold had met heroes before, he had seen the fair Countess von Ilmenstein from afar, had been fortunate enough to trade a few words with Rakorium the Archmage and though he hadn’t recognized him back then, he had spent an evening drinking with Asleif Phileasson the famed seafarer. Something about these people had impressed even an old, world-weary goblin. By comparison, Iiro was… decidedly unimpressive. There was not a grain of lie in his words, but at the same time, he himself did not quite seem to believe them.

“Oh forgive me, your highness”, he chuckled. “I wasn’t aware you’re a hero” Iiro narrowed his eyes and Kobold immediately realized he had hit a nerve, without even trying to provoke him. “Hundreds died in Drakesfield”, the sellsword hissed. “They call us heroes now, but all we did was avenge the fallen. We saved hardly anyone, not back then, not right now”

“Not yet”, Vittorio interjected. He was sporting a winning smile, selling this entire hero hogwash better than his companion, but Kobold didn’t need Abigale’s warning to feel a hint of distrust whenever he looked at him. “We hope to find the source of all those missing people here in Menzhome. A trail has led us here, pointing right at the baron and his daughter”

“Aye, same here”, Kobold confirmed. There was no point in trying to hide his intentions and though he still considered it naive, the goblin couldn’t help but be mildly impressed by how quickly Iiro had gotten him to admit the truth. “We had the pleasure of fighting a former suitor of Baroness Ulgraine in Baliho. Before we stopped him, he killed half a dozen young women, carved them open like cattle. That was the first vampire we encountered”

“So you’re here by chance?”, Joanna asked. She had been quiet until now, but always watching, calmly waiting her time. Her question was sharp and Kobold’s smile faded from his face. “Pretty much”, he admitted. “I’ve been in Baliho for… different business, but that killer… one of his victims was a friend of mine. Me and Eret investigated, teaming up with Abigale and Darbrek here. We managed to stop the vampire, but got blindsided by another bloodsucker, a huntress named Nadarie. She took a… an acquaintance of mine, Relin’s brother and Cilie’s sweetheart. Her trail led us here in the end, to the baron and his daughter as well. The killer mentioned her by name”

“Sir Maximus won’t like this…”, Joanna mumbled. “But it basically confirms what we’ve been fearing all along” Kobold shook his head. “It’s pretty damning evidence, but no confirmation yet”, he told her. “The man who blamed the baron was bloody deranged and I won’t just take him for his word, though I’ll admit it doesn’t look good. We were going to investigate when those thugs ambushed us, but given that it led to our meeting, perhaps I should thank those fucks”

“Same here”, Iiro confirmed. “The leader of our group is a priest of Rondra. He has stayed behind to bury those left for the crows outside the gate, but he’ll join us soon enough. Then, we’re going to confront the baron” This sent a brief shiver down Kobold’s spine. His kind and the Rondrians did not get along, hailing all the way back to the Theatre Knights who had slaughtered tens of thousands of goblins in the name of Rondra. That had been hundreds of years ago, of course, but the goblin race was still nothing more than a minority in their own homeland, forced to carve out a life in humanity’s shadow. Kobold had adjusted to it fairly well, but the road had been hard and few of his childhood companions had been as fortunate. As such, while he had nothing against the human gods and their followers, Priests of Rondra always made him nervous more than even a Praiot could do.

“You think that Rondrian of yours would speak to me as well?”, he asked. This time, it was Joanna who gave him a nod. “Sir Maximus is a good man, he won’t dismiss your tale”, she assured him, but Kobold had heard higher praise for terrible people. “We’ll see about that”, the goblin growled. “Until then, why don’t we compare what we know? Since it seems we’re all on the same side here”

“Are we now?”, Joanna asked, but her resolve faltered quickly. “I mean… you have no issue working with the duke’s men?” He shrugged. “Should I?”, he replied. “Got nothing against your duke, I heard he’s a decent lad. I can think of worse people to count on my side” He extended one hand over the table. “So, what do you say? I tell you what I know, you tell me what you know?”

Iiro and Joanna exchanged a brief look and subtly, the woman gave the sellsword a nod. Then, Iiro reached across the table and grabbed Kobold’s hand without hesitation. “Deal”, he replied. “But you go first” Kobold flashed him a wide grin. “My pleasure”, he confirmed. “So, we encountered our first vampire in Baliho. Elbaran was his name, but the people commonly referred to him as the Whorescarver”

“I heard of him”, Joanna confirmed. “The Count of Baliho had been hunting for him for weeks without success, yet you managed to do it on your own?” Kobold shrugged. “Yeah, the count’s a twat”, he chuckled. “We lured Elbaran into a trap, but he was aided by another vampire, the huntress Nadarie. In the end, she got away, taking Dangig with her, injured but alive. Elbaran could have escaped too, but his instincts got the better of him. He died like a squealing pig and it was still too kind a fate for him”

“If he was a vampire, I can’t help but pity him”, Nadim mumbled, the first he had spoken during their conversation so far. “I know how it twists people, gnaws at them until all that was once good and kind in them is gone…” He shook his head. “Someone I care for has been turned. I hope to find a cure for her sake”

Kobold exchanged a quick glance with Abigale. “Interesting…”, he stated. “Have you heard of such a thing, Abby? Can this curse be cured?” Abigale thought about it for a second. “Not to my knowledge”, she admitted. “But the source material is questionable at best. There are few facts about vampires and many fairytales and myths. Perhaps there is a cure after all” She gave Nadim an encouraging smile. “For the sake of your friend, I hope you find it”

“In any way, Elbaran talked before I put an end to him”, Kobold continued. “Mentioned Ulgraine of Mersley-Boarstribe. Some queen as well, but they might be the same person” As he said these words, Iiro’s eyes widened, if briefly. He was trying to hide it, but all things considered, he was not a born liar. Kobold could see right through him. “Does that ring a bell?”, he asked. “Anything I just said, does it sound familiar?”

The sellsword hesitated visibly, so whatever it was, it had to be dangerous. “Nadarie…”, Nadim mumbled. “Lucy mentioned that name” This earned him a brief glare from Joanna. “And you didn’t tell us?”, she asked, to which he shook his head. “She mentioned a couple of names, none of them meant anything to me”, Nadim defended himself. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you though. She mentioned a Nadarie for sure. Someone named Alfarna as well and Curunir”

“Yeah, I heard of that last one”, Kobold confirmed. “He’s supposed to be dangerous, so let’s hope we won’t be meeting him anytime soon. Your friend, what did she say about Nadarie?” Nadim shrugged. “Not much”, he admitted. “Just mentioned her name in passing. She never met her, but Fredo… the vampire who turned her, he actually met her”

“He mentioned Elbaran as well”, Iiro realized. “They had been brought to a tower, Fredo, Elbaran and a few others. There, they got turned into vampires by a pallid knight, someone he called Walmir” Kobold narrowed his eyes. “Now it’s getting interesting”, he replied. “Before those savages attacked us, I was about to follow a lead. Some boy got attacked on the road by a black-clad knight. He got away, if barely, made it all the way to the local temple of Peraine. Sounded too odd to be a coincidence and now I’m sure there’s more behind it”

“So we got a vampire knight going around and abducting people, turning them into vampires who collect even more victims”, Abigale concluded. “Even I have a hard time believing that, but after what we’ve learned, after what we’ve seen… it might just be true. The only question that remains is why a vampire would cause such mayhem. They’re rare, relying on subtelty to survive the centuries. If discovered, they are swiftly dealt with”

“From what Fredo told us, the knight is not the one in control”, Iiro revealed, confirming what Kobold had already feared. “This… queen. Fredo mentioned someone similar. I don’t know if she’s a vampire or not, but she controls Walmir. Whatever she’s after, she’s obviously not concerned about the consequences”

That was an unsettling thought, one Kobold had before. Even the Church of Praios was involved now and they were by all accounts the most powerful organized faith in Aventuria. Sure, the amount of people who knew the truth was still small, but if more would catch on, it would be nothing less but an open declaration of war against the Praiots. No one could be this foolish, nor powerful enough to pull this off. “It means the queen expects to be gone before anything can be traced back to her”, he realized. “It means whatever she’s doing, whatever she needs all those vampires for, it’ll be finished soon”

“All the more reason to hurry”, Iiro growled and Kobold could only agree. “Indeed”, the goblin spoke. “I take it you and your knight will check out the baron? I’d like to join, but frankly, I’d half expect to have my head mounted on a wall over a fireplace. The nobility in this part of Aventuria still sees my kind as little more than hunting trophies”

“We were going to”, Iiro confirmed. “Once Sir Maximus rejoins us, of course. He’s a baron himself, Menzhome’s neighbour. If anyone can secure an audience with Dustward of Mersley-Boarstribe, it’ll be him. What about you?” Kobold shrugged. “We got two leads to follow”, he revealed. “That woman I mentioned, Nadarie, she’s got a husband just outside the city. Though the baron’s a solid lead, I think Nadarie is the one we should be after. She clearly intended to take Dangig back to her queen, so if we follow her trail, we’ll find that bitch. But your talk about that knight only further convinced me that I must speak to the survivor in the temple. I was going to do that first thing tomorrow, maybe I can talk to him and then meet up with Nadarie’s husband before nightfall”

“Or we could do it for you”, Iiro offered, once again taking Kobold by surprise with how straightforward he could be. It reminded him of Eret, whose blunt, but reliable nature had done wonders with endearing him to the goblin. “You check out the temple survivor as you planned to do, while me and the others talk to Nadarie’s husband, see if he even knows anything. Then, we meet up at noon, discuss our findings and proceed together, while Sir Maximus arranges for an audience with the baron”

It was a bold offer, one that would take their little meeting to the next level. Instead of just sharing information, they would be allies, going forward. Not that Kobold had anything against these people, but he still hesitated. In the past, he only survived through a few close calls by picking his allies carefully. Everyone could be useful, but not everyone could be an ally. “Only if you’re okay with this”, Iiro was quick to add. “You found the lead, so if you want to then you can follow it yourself. Gods know we have enough to do already, preparing for our meeting with the baron. But I'd like to offer my help and who knows how much we can find out before Sir Maximus is ready”

“I’d… like you to do it”, Relin interjected, his gaze meeting Iiro’s, then moving to Kobold. “My brother is still out there and if he’s still alive at all we’re running out of time. We need to talk to Nadarie’s husband, maybe he can help us. And if you don’t want to do it, then let Iiro handle it, if only so that we can get this over with sooner. I’ll go with them, so that you got a man present during the talks. But please… we need all the help we can get. Let’s work together” Cilie gave him an enthusiastic nod. "So will I", she spoke, her voice surprisingly stern. "Let us go with them while you and Eret interrogate that boy in the temple. What do you say, Kobold?"