Arn

It took Arn only a few minutes to don his weapons. He strapped his quiver to his back, a bent nail attached to the hardened leather suspended his bow. His shield had a rope attached to the top and bottom corners, so he slung it over his back as well, if he needed it, he could swing it around and use the straps as additional leverage in keeping the board straight. His arming sword was attached vertically on his left hip, so that the hilt and blade wouldn’t interfere with his movements. He attached one dagger to his opposite hip, and another to the calf on the same side.

The most annoying part of his kit was definitely his longsword. He couldn’t strap it to his back, it was impossible to draw that way. It also left him completely exposed. He had to admit, it destroyed some childhood fantasies of his about the whole back-strapped sword thing.

Damn video games, giving me false expectations about performance. No better than porn. Instead, he had buckled the sword at an extreme angle from his hip, to keep it from dragging on the ground. The belt was loose so he could turn the sheath while drawing so that the length was manageable.

After a pause to allow Lou to climb onto his quiver, he pressed his right shoulder into the iron door, creaking it open. His left arm was still useless, the shoulder dislocated, and a bandage wrapped around the wound he’d received from Punt. He’d seen videos of people popping the ball back into its socket, but he didn’t feel confident in doing so himself. He’d read somewhere that he could pinch a nerve or vein and cause permanent damage. The pain was manageable, so he decided it would be best to leave it for now.

As Arn passed through the threshold, his vision was blocked by a system notification.

System Alert:

Congratulations! Your refusal to kill before you left has been accepted as an alternate win condition! Your failure to do what was required has been forgiven.

In order to begin your integration, please proceed to a safe zone within the dungeon.

As punishment for your fai

As a reward for your success, all kobolds within a 1,000 miles have been informed of your escape!

Yeah that tracks. Taking a quick peek back at the door, he said, “Goodbye frying pan.”

Lou finished for him, Hello fire.

Lou and Arn were in a long corridor, to their left, the cave led into a steep decline. The right held a fork, two paths that had light coming from them.

Down is probably not out, right? Walking towards the forked path, Arn lifted the visor of his armet. His vision was severely limited with it down, and he was already having trouble seeing in the dimmed tunnel.

When he reached the fork, he immediately took the path to the left. Partially, because it wouldn’t have mattered, he had no idea where either path went, and so he arbitrarily chose left.

Don’t lie to yourself. You saw the giant webs covering the tunnel on the right and chose to avoid them. Not that I blame you, massive spiders are the last thing anyone needs in their life. Remarked the owl.

What spiders? There are no spiders, and I certainly didn’t see any webs. You’re delusional, bud.

After several minutes of walking through an empty tunnel, Arn found himself staring at a set of double door and contemplating life.

Are all of the traps going to be this obvious? The little guys can do better than this, surely? I have to go through, there’s really no other choice. The question is, how to do so without getting obliterated by the troops on the other side? Straightforward is probably the way to go.

First, he ran into the nearest wall, a groan escaping his lips as his attempt to relocate his shoulder failed. It took him three tries before he got the right angle,

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Arn removed his bow, longsword, and shield. He dug the shield into the ground in front of one of the doors. He kneeled down and grabbed an arrow to place on the string.

Preparations complete, he shouted his declaration. “Listen! There are a few younglings in my former cave. They’re injured, but nothing that I know you can’t heal. Why don’t you go help them. We don’t need to fight, just let me leave. Better yet, kick me out, I have no desire to fight you, or remain in your territory. Please take the offer.”

Shuffling could be heard in the next room, and the response that followed was expected. “FUCK YOU TRAINER! We’re going to kick your ass, you die, and things go on as they always do!”

Them’s some fightin’ words. “Is that you Horace? Those are some big words from such a terrible fighter! I trained you four months ago, who the fuck put you in charge? I swear, if I open this door without a deal, I’m killing you first, you little slimy shit.”

Laughter erupted from behind the door. He could hear the Horace yelling and threatening his squad, which only made them laugh harder. At first, he’d wondered why basic jokes had made them so riled up, then realized that this was the first time they’d heard him insult one of them. Maybe it’s like hearing your normally nice teacher roast the class clown? Except, I was never very nice.

“No deal! You think you're a savant or some shit?! Open the door, and I’ll stab you in your ugly face.”

“What kind of half-assed insult was that? Just get someone with a brain over here. I want to speak to your chief.” Oh god, I’m a “Karen”.

“I wouldn’t give you the shit I took yesterday, open the door and die already.”

Arn shut his eyes for a moment, he knew he’d have to kill at some point. He’d made peace with it. Slowly cracking the doors open, he tried to see his target.

The lizards had set up a small barricade, but nothing substantial. Some tables had been overturned, and while the kobolds had proper gear on, they were not from the same squad. The kobolds had patches attached to their armor signifying their battalion and squad numbers. Out of the six he could see, none had the same tag.

He assumed that while they knew he was coming, they hadn’t been prepared and threw together whatever defenses they had on hand. The upside to their prolonged war was definitely the lack of resources they had to spare.

Standing behind the central table with a spear, was Horace. The little fuckers not wearing a helmet.

Arn put his visor down. He slammed his fist into the door in front of him, drawing his bow at the same time. To compensate for the pain in his arm, he rested his forearm against the top of his shield. Lining up the shot was easy and before the kobold leader had the opportunity to follow through on his threat, an arrow struck him in the face, killing him.

A spear and arrow flew back at him in retaliation. The spear landed awkwardly against his spear and failed to penetrate, while Arn ducked to dodge the arrow.

On his next shot, he killed the only other kobold without a helmet.

Back and forth, the two sides traded arrows and spears. The lizards’ fire breath was ultimately ineffective against his shield, but they only figured that out after the fourth member of their makeshift squad was killed.

His initial count had been off, and there were four lizards left. He heard one of them call out that he was moving up, and dropped his bow. The kobolds had been kind enough to give him some of their spears, and he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As the lizard drew near, he laid flat on his back and waited. With a completely unnecessary roar, the kobold leapt over the fire-proof shield. Arn lifted the tip of the spear and set the butt of the weapon against the ground, allowing the creature to skewer itself, the tip of the spear entering directly into the glowing red vein above its heart.

Pushing the kobold off, Arn chose not to resume his firing. “Marshall, I know that’s you. You’re a healer right?”

“I’m sorry Trainer, but I will not let you leave, nor can I attend to the younglings without killing you.” The healer replied.

“Sprat is your son right? Please see reason man. He’s hurt, but I didn’t do any permanent damage. I don’t want to make him an orphan as well.”

“I appreciate you letting him live, but he’d end up an orphan anyways if I didn’t do my duty. You’re almost out of arrows, and we have them by the barreload. More are on their way, and the elders have already decreed that the first to bring your current head would be given a command post. Just give up Trainer, you can’t fight everyone.”

Damn that was fast. He couldn’t waste any more time, Arn rolled past the dead kobold’s body, staying out of the line of sight of the room. Standing up, he grabbed his longsword from the ground, placed his shoulder at the closed door, and sent a mental signal to Lou.

The owl flew into the room catching the attention of the kobolds while Arn kicked open his door and rushed ahead. Lou did as he was told and immediately dived to the side, completely avoiding an arrow flying his way, and behind a table. His only job was to act as a momentary distraction, and it worked.

During his run into the room, Arn’s armor blocked the arrows that flew his way, one sliding off, and the other hitting the top of his armet, grazing the metal as it flew by. Instead of jumping over the table, he capitalized on his momentary advantage and thrust his blade through the skull of one of the remaining kobolds.

Marshall jumped over his own barrier to engage, but he was ignored, as Arn swapped sides with him and engaged his final ally.

The kobold had enough time to draw his own blade and catch his enemies swing. The blades binded only momentarily until Arn shoved his blade down and leveraged his back hand to swing the tip into the kobold’s neck.

The lizard attempted to disengage, but was too slow as Arn grabbed his own blade's midpoint, essentially turning his blade into a dagger and allowing him to aim the sword accurately through the kobold’s eye and through his brain.

Turning to face his remaining foe, Arn spat, “I’m not going to kill you Marshall. I’m gonna kick your ass and then leave. You can then make the sensible choice and heal yourself, and then go get your kid.”