“Come on, Meepo!” I said. “It's not like you need the damn key! Just give it to us, and we won't have anything else to do with each other!”

“No! You won't get key! You lied! You murdered Yustradil!”

It was a nuisance that they figured out the truth so fast. But Yustradil and their four best warrior were dead. We were healed up, and Beldrak was brimming with magic power. I reckoned that with a liberal application of violence, we could solve any kobold-related problem now.

“She attacked us!” I shouted through the door. I still couldn't see any of the little bastards, but the stones they slung at me when I went nearer to the entrance convinced me that staying in cover was the better part of valour. At least as long as there was a chance that we could talk ourselves through.

“The Outcast was controlling her! Our weapons might have killed her, but it was the druid's fault!”

“They are not stupid, you know,” Jim whispered to me.

“No harm in trying,” I whispered back.

“Lies, lies, lies!” shouted Meepo. “Yustradil was strong! Outcast could never charm her.”

“Hey, Meepo!” shouted Jim. “It was Arnold who killed Yustradil.” Well, so much for talking us through. “But I didn't do anything against her! I never raised a weapon against her! Neither did Beldrak! It is all Arnold's fault, and he is going to leave now! We send him away so that we can talk with you in peace!”

There was a short silence after that.

“Dwarf and tiefling are not liars,” said Meepo in the end. “They bring us food. They are friendly. But they are also friend with human liar! With human murderer!”

“Arnold saved my life!” Jim shouted back. “I couldn't turn my back on him. But now the debt is paid. We will send him away. Can we come in?”

The kobolds were talking among themselves, then Meepo shouted back.

“No! You not lie, but not tell the truth either! You not murder, but not help Yustradil against murderer! You leave too! Leave poor kobolds alone!”

Well, it is time to change the subject. If I can get the nubbins to come into this narrow corridor, we can kill a few as they enter one by one.

“Yes, I killed Yustradil,” I shouted. “And I killed your precious dragon too! It was a mad dog that needed to be put down! And I will go away now, but search for other dragons and kill them too!”

Only silence answered my rambling. So these kobolds can keep their heads cool after all. Regrettable.

Since the enemy wasn't willing to placate us with getting into an unfavourable position, I dashed through the door to fight on their ground. Stones hailed on me as the kobolds worked their slings, but my armour protected me from the worst of it. I cut down one of the little beasts, and Jim, who was reluctantly following me, killed another.

We cleared out the big room in a bloody melee. The kobolds were numerous, but we were bigger, stronger, and had much better armour. Also Beldrak dropped two or three Kobolds with every spell of his.

“There are six more warriors,” I said after we were done. “I counted them before, and six are still unaccounted for.”

I was bleeding profusely, but I knew Jim would heal me, and take away the pain in a moment. I was becoming more reckless by the day. Probably it would be a good idea to keep in mind that even the healing ability of Jim had its limits. For now, though, I pressed on.

We found the rest of the kobolds scattered in the big hall, where Yustradil used to sit on the throne. A few others were in the kitchen. But it seemed, most of the non-fighting kobolds and three of the warriors had escaped into the caves and corridors under the citadel. Or at least that was Beldrak's guess.

“And now I am a murderer too,” said Jim.

“We were doing the world a favour,” I argued. “The kobolds just would have adopted another dragon if we didn't kill them. And this way we can open all the remaining doors and be sure that we leave behind nothing that would be dangerous for Oakhurst.”

Jim did not argue back.

----------------------------------------

We found two of the goblin prisoners still alive. Now, belatedly I realised that we hadn't made any slaves during the whole time. Usually my commanders organised such things when I was back in Italia, and I had my head full of other worries. What a bother! Slaves were often a big part of the bounty, and now we were simply missing out on them!

“Hereby, I make them our slaves,” I announced.

“Slaves?” asked Beldrak. “As in property that you can sell and buy?”

“Is there any problem with that?”

“Well, most cities on the Misty Hills don't allow outright slavery. Prisoners of war have to work for their freedom if they can't raise a ransom, but they still cannot be sold to a third party.”

“That is rather uncivilised,” I grumbled. “So you don't have freedmen either?”

“What is a freedman?”

Despite the many advancements and smart solutions this world had over Italia, they were still sorely lacking in some departments. No garum, no freedmen, no slaves.

“Freedmen are those slaves who deserve to be freed. They then become citizens, can vote in the Assembly. They are barred only from fighting in the army.” Pride is one of the most crucial factors in keeping a soldier form running away in a battle, and it is a sad fact of life that slaves usually have pride beaten out of them in an early stage of their career. Even if they regain their freedom later, they rarely make good soldiers. “They make the most useful employees. They are loyal, grateful, and diligent.”

“Interesting. No, no slaves here, and no freedman. And goblins do not make very good servants anyway. They lie, cheat and laze around.”

I decided to take the two goblins with us anyway. If they wouldn't fetch a price, I could still kill them later, or set them free in a fit of uncharacteristic mercy.

The key that Yustradil promised us was easy to find, and it indeed opened the door we decided not to break down the very first day we arrived to the sunken citadel. We were wary for traps, so went forward slowly and methodically, as usual, Beldrak checking every room for magic, and I looking for mechanical traps. In the last days, I developed quite an eye for it.

In one room we arrived at there were a host of bells, which Beldrak pronounced magical.

“I have to touch it to know exactly what kind of magic we are talking about, but I would rather not. At least not as long as we don't know for sure that it's harmless.”

“Luckily we have two goblin slaves,” I said, and gestured one of them to go forth and touch the bell. My unsheathed sword seemed to make a convincing argument.

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Even though I was not in the room, the deep sound that reverberated along the corridors filled me with dread. It was pure, primal fear, which I was unable to overcome, and before I knew what I was doing, I ran out of the room, back the way we came from. I only calmed down when I was already out of the citadel.

When at last I got myself together and came back, both of the goblins were whimpering from fear on the ground: with their bounded legs they couldn't run away, and fell. Beldrak was very agitated, while Jim was positively giddy.

“That bell was a priceless magical object,” the wizard fumed when he saw me. “I identified its magic; it would frighten people who heard its sound for a while, and induce them to run away like you did. But it can only do so once a day; once someone has overcome the effect, the bell is useless against that person for the rest of the day.”

“Good to know,” I sulked.

“You don't understand! This bell is a weapon of utmost potency! We could just carry it around, sounding it every morning so that we become immune to the effect, and then induce our enemies to scram whenever we want them to!”

“That's... a surprisingly good idea. So where is the bell?”

“It crumbled into dust when Beldrak tried to remove it from the room,” said Jim then doubled over with laughter. “Oh my... the face he made... I just really hope I will see you fall on your face like that too, Arnold. That would make this day perfect.”

“Who needs enemies when he has friends like this,” I muttered.

“Considering all the trouble you put us through I have a little more right to say that,” retorted Jim. “But if you do a faceplant like that, I might just forgive you.” Then he looked at Beldrak, and doubled over again.

Moving forward, we pushed through a few other rooms and corridors. My two slaves, unfortunately, did not survive my attempt to use them as scouts, mechanical traps claimed them both, but at least this way we could disarm or avoid these. On that occasion Jim said some very hurtful things about the intellectual abilities of mankind in general, the lack of my patience in particular, and added some remarks about “callousness,” “wanton cruelty” and “using a fucking log instead”. But I took it all in good nature, being the bigger person and all that. I was not so petty as to punish a friend for voicing his opinion about me. When I worked out the details in my mind how I would snatch his waterskin one night and empty my bladders into it, that was merely a thought experiment, and I did not intend to act on that plan at all. Really.

At last, we arrived in a room that was covered in dust, and held six big, armed sculptures. I had a bad feeling.

“They are going to come alive and hack us up, aren't they?”

Beldrak looked at me, surprised. “You might have an aptitude for this sort of thing after all.” Then he started to cast his magic detecting spell.

As it turned out, the sculptures were harmless (this time), but there was a more mundane trap disguised at the end of the room, a pit full of stakes. After we knew where it was, we quickly jumped over it, and proceeded to the next room.

This was a crypt. There was an enormous tomb in the middle, some Draconic scribbling on the walls, and a dog-sized bat with a somewhat human face and impossibly long claws. It did not waste time, but attacked us right after we entered.

I blocked it's first attack with my shield, and tried to pin the creature to the ground. It was agile though, and escaped me like an oiled snake.

Jim asked something in a language I did not understand, but the creature seemed to pay no mind. I was more careful and prepared this time, and when it tried to attack me, I lunged forward and pinned the bat between my shield and the wall.

“What are you guarding here?” I panted. I assumed Jim wanted to interrogate the creature, and I thought it was a decent idea, since it could inform us of traps we haven't found yet.

“I am bound by magic to guard the traitorous dragon priest. I am the last guard and the first.” It was speaking in Common. Trying to make sense of his blabbering, my attention slipped, and the next moment the creature was free again.

“Can we somehow free you from your bonds?” asked Beldrak. To err on the safe side, and not to waste time, he also shot a firebolt at the creature.

“You just did!” the creature let out an evil cackle and then disappeared into a puff of smoke.

“What was that?” I asked.

“A joke in bad taste,” answered Beldrak. “I assume this was the familiar of the dragon priest before he committed his sin. As an accomplice, he was bound to protect the prison of his former master. But the bond was probably worded sloppily enough that he could weasel out of it when we came along.”

“A familiar? Like that spider of yours?”

“In all probability.”

“What does that epigraph say?”

Beldrak cast his other long spell, with which he could understand every inscription he touched.

“ ‘A dragon priest keeps his rank no matter what sin he commits, and even in his punishment he will receive the honours that fit his station.‘ As I said, a joke in bad taste.”

“Now then. Should we open the grave?” I asked.

“Hmm. I think it would be safe enough. Even if the priest became immortal through his botched experiment, according to what I read, he lost most of his magical power. I say we put him out of his misery, and pocket 'the honours that befit his station '.”

“Can you check to be sure?” Jim asked. “I mean whether you sense some strong magic coming out of the grave.”

“The stone is too thick,” Beldrak shook his head. “Sadly, I cannot detect magic through stone, lead and most other metals, if the wall is sufficiently thick. If I am mistaken about the priest though, and we do release some ancient eldritch horror long after its guards already perished, consider yourself profusely apologised to.”

“Reassuring,” muttered Jim.

To open the grave, we used my new sword; the one Beldrak took off from sir Braford. According to him, it was a magical sword, named Shatterspike, that was enhanced to break doors, walls and other objects easily. Now was a good time to test the limits of its abilities. Even though I might not keep it if we succeed in curing sir Braford.

It took only a quarter of an hour to break the locks that held in place the cover of the tomb, after that we could simply push the cover to the ground.

“Ready?” asked Beldrak.

“To get rich?” grumbled Jim. “Always. To die? Not so much.”

But he pushed all the same, and suddenly the grave was open. There was a green-skinned giant inside with huge claws and razor-sharp teeth. It roared at us, and tried to sit up, but then I stabbed it, Jim stabbed it too, and Beldrak incinerated the remains.

“What did I tell you? Lost his powers.”

“That did not look like an elf though.”

“That's because it was a troll. Seemingly the abomination he turned himself into was a big, dumb greenskin. What a stupid way to piss off your brethrens.”

We looted the place thoroughly, then decided to search for the healing apple, which was our main objective when we first came here.

----------------------------------------

Some surviving goblins must have absconded from the citadel, like the kobolds did, since females and their litters were not to be found. Incredibly, some of the more martially inclined beasts had chosen to remain behind. Despite how unhealthy the place became for goblins, despite their master being dead, the dumb critters still loitered around. Now that we methodically cleared the lower level again, room by room, corridor by corridor, we found these, and since they were not eager enough to become my slaves, we put them to the sword.

Our investigation in other regards proved futile. There was simply no sign of magical apples tucked away in some secret hiding place. We searched the Grove of Twilight twice to find a fallen apple that might have rolled under the bushes, but to no avail. At last, I started to hack up the charred remains of the big tree in frustration. And then, the goddess of luck smiled at us at last.

As Shatterspike sheared away the charred bark of the tree, suddenly I saw something red.

“Beldrak!” I shouted.

“That's it, my boy!” he exclaimed. “That's what we were looking for!”

“Well, then. Sir Braford and Sharwin Hucrele will live after all.”

“About that. I was meaning to talk to you for a while now, but since we haven't found the apple...”

“What do you mean?” asked Jim. “Out with it.”

“Have you thought about how different the world would be with these apples around?”

“What do you mean?” it was my turn to ask. “This world has all the healing powers it needs. Jim, as miserable, sour bastard he may be, is able to heal deadly wounds with simply laying his hands on you. Erky is even better. When I asked, he explained that he could easily heal even someone with lung trouble or leprosy.”

“Well. They still couldn't heal Lady Sharwin and sir Braford. Curses and other magical ailments are in abundance everywhere. According to the priestess, Nackle, these apples can cure those as well.”

“So all the more reason to use the apple on the people we freed.”

“Or... we could take the apple to Golden Grove. Together with the notes of Belak's research. There are brilliant wizards and sorcerers in Golden Grove, even a few druids. They might be able to replicate the Outcast's work. They might be able to grow more of these apples. But I am certain that to succeed, they will need a sample.”

I thought back on Lady Hucrele sitting at the bed of her niece, clutching at her hands. How similar I was, as I sat at the deathbed of Lucius. As I watched my little brother wither away. How I took every chance, how I hunted magical and mundane cures, to no avail.

It was not a tough call to make. It was hardly a choice at all. Sharwin Hucrele was nothing to me. All the sympathy I felt towards her was induced by a similarity in the circumstances.

I had other people to care about. Beldrak. Jim. My parents and my sisters if I ever got back to them. This apple might save their life once. And all it cost me was not to save a stranger.

Like I said, it was hardly a choice at all.