The kobold priest or chieftain or whatever it was slumped forward, leaning against one of the ribs around the altar. The blade in its chest withdrew and a shadow leapt away from the corpse. I frantically looked around the room as best I could in my position.

The other kobolds in the room were running around and screaming in panic, grabbing weapons or things that might be used as weapons. While they were running a glowing orange ball sailed through the entrance to the cave and exploded in a burst of flame. The kobolds in the center of the blast were reduced to charred skeletons, while those further away survived but were burned to diminishing degrees the further they lay. I felt a bit of heat against my skin, but took no damage.

As I blinked away the spots in my eyes the fireball had left I saw a warrior in gleaming half-plate with a helmet shaped like a wolf’s head cut down one of the remaining kobolds with a longsword. Behind a short warrior in even heavier armor carrying a two-handed battleaxe followed, his beard extending past the faceplate of his horned helmet to his waist. I breathed a sigh of relief, an adventuring party!

The shadow that had cut down the lead kobold continued to stab others in the back while the two warriors cut more down, occasionally a jet of flame shot out from the cave entrance to incinerate another kobold. I actually thought that I was out of the woods for a second, before I heard a sticky wet sound coming from the opposite side of the combatants. Warily I turned my gaze towards the source of the sound and had just enough time to feel grossed out before the kobold corpse leaning against the altar’s ribs fell on top of me.

I groaned as it splatted against my chest, and then the altar beneath me started glowing. “Uh,” I said confused. “What’s going on here?” The warriors paid me no heed. Then the dead kobold started to stir. “What the fuck?!” I shouted.

That got the wolf-headed warrior’s attention, they turned and watched as the kobold priest stood back up, gaping chest wound still open. With a popping sound in its neck, it turned to look down at me again, a vacant expression in its eyes. It slowly raised a clawed hand.

“By Utu!” A blade that glowed like the sun sliced neatly through the undead kobold’s torso, causing both halves to smoke and sizzle as they fell to the ground. The wolf-headed warrior observed the corpse for a minute, pointing their glowing sword at it until it faded to ordinary steel again. When they were satisfied that the kobold wasn’t going to get up a third time they turned to face me.

I gulped nervously at the sight of the wolfish face mask with its sharp angles and narrowed eyes. I couldn’t think of much to say so I just said, “uh, I’m alive.”

The warrior nodded, “that is fortunate.” They looked up and scanned the room, then sheathed their sword and began to lift their helmet off.

I inhaled involuntarily as I saw that it wasn’t just a helmet, the warrior had the head of a white-furred wolf with striking yellow eyes. Now that I wasn’t concerned for my life I also noticed a tail sticking out from under the skirt of their (I couldn’t tell any signs of their gender) armor. I leaned up to try to look at the rest of the party. The short warrior I presumed to be a dwarf looked the most human-like of the group, though his forehead protruded in a way that reminded me of neanderthal reconstructions. The shadow slowly approached the altar, wisps of darkness fading away to reveal patchwork boiled leather plates and a gray-and-black ringed tail, a narrow pointed snout poked out from under his hood, which he pulled back to show a gray face with black rings around the eyes. The fourth member of the group came into my view for the first time; a rabbit or hare with wide eyes and fur the color of dirty sand, holding out a staff with a red orb set into the end before him as he cautiously approached.

The raccoon crouched down next to me, holding a blood-stained stiletto in one hand. “Alright, I saved your life so...” he said in a nasally voice. “What’s your classes and level?”

Before I could answer the wolf growled, “don’t be crass Ruculus.” They knelt and grabbed one of the ropes binding me, drawing a more utilitarian single-edged knife from their belt.

As they started sawing through the ropes the raccoon, whom I presumed to be “Ruculus,” started to let out a low hiss before thinking better and wedging his blade under another rope. “Oh come on Lysander,” he muttered. “He owes me.”

“My name’s Craig Henkel,” I stated. “I’m a first level Alchemist.” I nodded towards Lysander, “and he saved me too.”

Ruculus sped up his attempts to saw through his rope as Lysander finished cutting the one he was working on and started unwinding it from my body. He grumbled in displeasure, “well that makes things needlessly complicated doesn’t it? And you don’t even have a combat class to make it worthwhile.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Uh,” I uttered, confused. “What do you mean?”

Lysander let out an annoyed chuff. “He’s talking about your service. I presume he was hoping you’d be able to help us in this dungeon.”

I wriggled my arm free of my loosening bonds. “I can help you, there’s a bunch of potions in the room over,” I looked around and pointed to a side tunnel with a rather low ceiling that seemed to be in the direction the kobolds had taken me from. “There, and I can identify them for you.”

“Oh yes, that’s quite useful now,” the bunny mage said with no small bit of derision. “I’m sure you will prove quite the asset to our little company.”

“Ey, lay off him Senet,” the dwarf commented. I was a little surprised, I was used to dwarfs speaking with Scottish accents, but he sounded more Germanic. “Potions arr useful enuff when du has da time ta trink dem. How mooch elan du spen on dat smite Lys?”

“Ten points,” the wolf answered.

“Vell,” the dwarf nodded. “Best sawve der rest.” He patted his pauldron, where a spot of blood leaked from a gap in the armor. “Ye see any heeler potion?”

I tried to decipher his accent best I could. “They gave me a potion that repaired my broken arm. There’s probably one that restores Health.”

“Hey,” Ruculus interjected. “He’s mine!”

“He is indebted to the company as a whole,” Lysander said, fixing the raccoon with an intense stare. “Like Balan said, we should conserve our resources. If the kobolds were creating catacanoi with this altar we’re likely in for a bigger fight ahead.”

Ruculus hissed before sheathing his dagger and backing away from me. “Fine,” he grumbled.

I wriggled loose of my remaining bonds and carefully slid out between the bones ringing the altar. I staggered in the direction of the tunnel behind Balan, his head had barely six inches of clearance, I had to bend over almost halfway to enter. The wooden and clay flasks were still there. “Vell?” the dwarf asked with a wave over the table.

I took a seat on the floor and picked up the nearest flask, I untied the leather cords holding the lid on and looked inside. There was a luminescent green fluid inside, I looked at it from one angle, then another, it flowed thickly from one side to another. I knew I had an “Identify potion” skill but how was I supposed to use it? I sniffed it, it gave off a citrusy scent, lost for ideas I dipped one finger in and out of the thick substance and carefully licked the droplet that clung to it. It gave off a pleasant tingling sensation.

Potion identified: Healing.

Guess that was how then. If I focused on the potion I saw the words “Healing Potion” hovering above it. I held the potion out to Balan, “this one’s a healing potion.” The dwarf took it and slugged it down in two quick gulps while I tested the other flasks. I found three more healing potions and two other purple potions like the one that had fixed my arm and ankle, which were identified as “Bone-Knitting Potions” by my skill. Another flask contained a brownish liquid that smelled distinctly alcoholic.

Concoction identified: Wild berry “wine.”

I considered it for a minute before deciding that after the day I’d had, I could definitely use it. I quaffed it quickly to try and avoid tasting it, but not fast enough. Bits of rotten berries stuck to my tongue, I dropped the rest of the flask and grabbed another one without checking it. A lime-like flavor swept some of the berry bits away and I saw another status message.

Intoxication low.

Health 10/10.

“Hay!” Balan grunted. “Don be taking our potions!”

Thinking quickly I grabbed the “wine” flask and waved it in front of the dwarf’s nose. “I didn’t think you’d want this crap.”

He sniffed it and, to my surprise, grabbed the flask and knocked it back. “Booze ist booze,” he said licking his lips.

I handed him another flask of berry wine and finished identifying the remaining flasks. There were three more flasks of wine plus a barrel that turned out to be another half-fermented batch. One clay flask contained a red fluid that my skill identified as “Strength potion.”

As I was checking the flasks and moving those that seemed useful into a sack Balan held out I noticed a sheet of bark lying on the ground underneath them. I barely paid it any mind until I picked up one flask and spotted a symbol scratched and painted into the surface of the bark, it looked kind of like a leaf. A shuffled the remaining flasks off of it and took a look at the whole sheet.

It was covered in crude sketches of various leafs and roots and the occasional animal part. I ran my finger along a set of sketches that appeared to be arranged in a row, ending with a broken bone. I glanced back at the flasks, and saw the same broken bone on one of the Bone-Knitting Potions.

Item obtained: Kobold alchemic codex (requires Language: Kobold Scrawl to use)

I blinked the notification away, then tucked the apparent “codex” under my arm and finished gathering up the potions. I’d try to decipher it later on.