The grove they had set up camp in was well hidden, a mile from the road, and not well known to the locals. Mostly because Merdon had widened it a fair bit with an ax Sarel pilfered from a town a few miles down the road. They were close enough for supplies, but far enough to be anonymous to the townsfolk. Using the cut trees, Merdon had fashioned a fake door to their copse which looked like a solid tree line, which kept them disguised from all angles and gave them room for their things. Fires had to be kept low, but Red was a master at controlling her flames. For the most part, the group sat in the dark at night, and only ate hot meals during the day. It was all about recovery and planning.
Red seemed especially shaken by the events in Ardmach. She had gone quiet since leaving and spent most of her time with her arms wrapped around herself. In private, Quickclaw had told Merdon the mage had not expected him to come, and the violent manner in which he rescued them was the furthest thing from her mind. Much as Merdon wanted to believe she was just shaken after seeing all the bodies, he simply didn't. Something had happened that Red wasn't sharing, and he didn't feel like pushing her. They could wait until they were all rested, more put together, before moving on. Ardmach was a week of hard travel behind them, which meant it was at least two weeks for a proper search party, with all the men and sweeping they had to do, to catch up.
Skyeyes wasn't much better than Red, however. The white kobold was antsy, slept poorly, and seemed distant from the group. He spent large swaths of time staring at the sky, which one may have taken as prayer, were it not for the sour expression he held while doing so. It occurred to Merdon the priest may be silently cursing the goddess for letting Red and Sarel be captured, but he couldn't say for sure. Whatever the case was, it meant two of their team were still reeling from the capital, and there wasn't much they could do until they decided to open up, or got over their issues privately. Merdon just took simple solace in the fact that Sarel hadn't been affected by things too much.
Quickclaw had seemingly only gotten more attached to the knight after his rampage. While Merdon spent several days in a silent cocoon of his own, he had Sarel hanging off of him to help wind him down. After their escape from the capital, their first night in the, then smaller, grove, Merdon had hugged the blue kobold tightly, and spent the night with her clutched to his chest. She didn't mind that one bit. Rather, her grin indicated she'd liked it a lot. Idle and excited conversation became their prime way to pass time with the other two being as melancholy as they were. For the most part, it was Quickclaw recounting some old adventure, with her verakt responding to keep the story advancing and sometimes adding in a similar experience. Other times, Sarel would recount some past even in the city. Those stories were more subdued, quieter, and rarely mentioned when the other two were around. Even she understood the other two were in an unstable state.
It also fell to the blue kobold to hunt for their dinners. Another warning sign on Merdon's list was how limited Skyeyes and Red were when it came to eating. The white kobold who had destroyed three slabs of ham a few weeks back in a tavern would hardly finish a plate of similarly roasted deer. Perhaps it was that Skyeyes didn't like deer as much as pork, but his lack of enthusiasm over food at all pointed elsewhere. He was depressed for one reason or another, as were most of them. Sarel seemed to be the least affected, which only made him more proud of her. She was a tough girl on many levels, although the knight wondered if her attitude meant she'd been captured before. Dormant rage started to bubble inside of him at the notion, but he was calm now, focused, he could think again and knew there was no use getting so upset at people he'd never seen before. Although it did raise other issues he needed to consider.
Two days into their camping in the grove, Merdon went into town wearing a heavy cloak and leaving behind his gear. He told the kobolds he needed information they couldn't gather for him. Quickclaw had lived up to her nickname with her nightly pilfering of the town, including the ax he had used, but that didn't help the human know what the guards were up to. Thankfully, the town in question was small enough they barely had a local militia. A couple of young men equipped cheap spears wandered around the edge of the village, making it easy for Merdon to approach from a different direction. The knight in disguise made a good showing about heading towards Ardmach and wanting to know what was ahead of him. As soon as he mentioned the capital, the two men looked at each other with a frown.
“You might avoid going that way right now, stranger,” the older of the two said to him. “A crier came through just the other day. There was a massacre in Ardmach.”
Merdon tensed and faked surprise. “A massacre in the capital? You don't suppose it was orcs?” he suggested, hoping to give some false leads.
The men shook their heads in unison, however. “The guard has a pretty good idea who it was. A man came into town accompanied by a pair of uncollared kobolds. I dunno what kinda man wanders around Ardmach with slaves and no chains, but the slavers stole them from him.”
Merdon faked a laugh. “Now I know you're messing with me. What madman would kill slavers over kobolds?”
“I don't know, but that's what's so scary,” the younger one replied, looking around. “They say he killed over a dozen men without raising an alarm, and then he fled the city alongside these kobolds. They have him and his three kobolds coming and going on the same day.”
The other chimed in again. “Some folks are saying it's a ruse. He lets the kobolds get caught, which is why they don't have collars, and then they help him kill the slavers.”
The younger one gaped for a moment and suggested, “Maybe they're controlling him. Damn beasts might be forcing him to do it, that's why they only found record of two kobolds being caught, but three left.”
“Who knows? The point is, any man willing to kill over kobolds has a screw loose. I'd rather die myself than help those monsters.”
Merdon had heard enough. “Sadly, I'm obligated to turn up in Ardmach. Perhaps I'll take a more roundabout way there. If this killer wants to stay ahead of the guard, he'll want to use the highway.”
The pair suggested he stay on the main road, to which Merdon promised to consider before walking off in the direction he had actually come from. Circling the town to walk back the way he came to reach the grove was a pain, but a necessary detour. He had learned what he needed to know, even if it was gnawing at him now. Ardmach's guards knew about him, and it wouldn't be long before they got a name, a description, and came by the guild to demand to know what he was up to. Their contracts were worthless, they wouldn't be able to stop into any more towns or cities. A straight shot to the witch's tower was their best hope now, scavenging what they could along the way, and then fleeing into one of the neighboring nations once she was dealt with and Red had her memories back. Shaky though the plan was, it was the best they had. Or at least the best he could think up as he walked back to the grove where the kobolds waited for him.
Merdon's face was as cold and hard as his armor when he pushed past their wooden barrier, and the kobolds noticed it right away. Once he got his cloak off, the knight sat down and explained what he'd picked up, and what he thought they should do next. Sarel agreed right away, urging the other two that the sooner they moved out the better. Waiting for the guard to catch them resting on their laurels was a surefire way to end up back in the hands of slavers, and Skyeyes' paper wouldn't save him a second time.
“It wouldn't have helped me back in Theris either,” he muttered with a scowl.
Sarel blinked and tilted her head, a rather cute expression for the mood hanging around them. “Theris?” Even Red looked at Skyeyes.
The priest shot a look at the man, and then said, “A group of farmers were planning on taking us in the night and selling us. Merdon heard it all, but instead of telling us about it, he beat the humans up.”
Red looked at the knight with surprise, but Sarel ginned and practically jumped on her verakt. “So the slavers in Ardmach weren't the only ones you've dealt with,” she praised him.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Skyeyes had a different take. “He lied to cover up for his own kind! His own filthy, disgusting kind.” The priest's rage was finally boiling to the surface. “His only concern was that we didn't view him any lower.”
Quickclaw was about to retort when Merdon spoke up instead.
“No,” he said calmly, his words coming out at a meandering pace, but one which conveyed he was thinking about what he was saying. “I was lying to myself more than you three. I didn't want to believe humans could be like them. Those three were just a sad group, hard on their luck, old, I dunno, but they weren't the usual.”
“But they are,” the white kobold replied with a voice like steel. Uncharacteristically, he added, “That's how humans are.”
“Maybe you're right,” Merdon accepted. “But I do know things have to change.” He paused for a moment, looking up at the midday sky. Clear, beautiful, but here they all sat in despair and anger. “I thought this would be a quick journey, that the witch was the biggest offender in the nation. If we could deal with her we'd go back to Bereth, relax, and keep taking jobs.” Clearly, it wouldn't happen anymore, not as he imagined.
Sarel tried to stay optimistic. “Perhaps they will blame someone else.”
Merdon shook his head. “No, they won't... and I don't want them to,” he said, determined.
“What do you mean?” Skyeyes asked, frowning. His anger was forgotten in the strange turn of events.
“This witch called me the kobold whisperer like I've got some special attachment to kobolds,” Merdon began explaining with that same look on his face. A dead serious look. “Well, fine, maybe I do. Maybe it pisses me off to see them treated like slaves, paraded in chains, forced into servitude by ungrateful people, elves, dragonkin. Maybe if she wants a kobold whisperer I'll give her one.”
Sarel looked at him, a grin across her face. “What exactly are you saying, verakt?”
“I'm saying I'm going to change this place. People are afraid of someone that would fight for kobolds? Then I'll give them something to be afraid of. I'll be the kobold whisperer, and people will mutter the name in worry,” he finished darkly, feeling his own rage returning. People would be afraid of him, of the things he could do, the things he could get kobolds to do, and they would be right in their fear.
The blue kobold at his side only grinned at the other two. “Does 'kobold whisperer' not sound like a name for one of our kind?”
Skyeyes and Red looked at each other, then back to Merdon with wide eyes. The man himself appeared quite confused but said nothing to the contrary. He didn't know anything. Sarel, however, was still grinning.
“A human taking on a kobold name?” she pressed, which seemed to make a spark in Merdon's brain. Like he was becoming one of them. That would make people nervous.
“So like Skyeyes or Quickclaw,” he confirmed, to their nods. “All right... Fine. It might help keep people from figuring me out so quickly.” At least for a while. It wouldn't be long and Ardmach would know about Merdon the kobold whisperer anyway. Embracing it early would help him build up a reputation beyond what the guards found in Bereth.
Skyeyes sat and frowned. “You're going to fight your own people?” he asked.
“I'm going to do what's right,” Merdon corrected him. “If I have to fight, then so be it. I will not see Quickclaw in a prison again.” The image of her trapped again was firmly in his mind.
Red spoke next, at long last, and she asked Skyeyes, “What happened to you?”
The white kobold blushed and shook his head. “Nothing. What do you mean?”
“Your wolves, you were in control of them. They attacked the slavers in the … Why?” She asked him directly, without any pretense.
After fumbling for a moment, Skyeyes sighed and told them, “The church, they took my pendant. The proof that I'm a cleric.” He was quiet, and the others looked at him with sorrow. “I believed the followers of the goddess would be different.”
“But they weren't,” Sarel finished for him. “They were as humane as other humes.”
“Why do they treat us like this?” Red asked, looking at Merdon, but the knight had no answers for her. He just shook his head. Which left Red free to look at Skyeyes and ask, “Without a god to follow you felt free to kill?” It seemed a little insane to her.
Skyeyes shook his head. “No, that … that came after I saw what Merdon saw. I thought the same thing what he did.” But not about Sarel. Red picked up on the implication and looked away, embarrassed. Skyeyes had worried about her so much.
“Without the goddess, I am lost,” he said sadly. “But I know I have to help with this quest. Wherever it leads.”
Merdon took the phrase lost as a segue and pulled out a map. “Speaking of where we're going, I think we need to rethink our route.”
Skyeyes looked at the map, then Merdon, and frowned. “Now?”
“Yes,” Merdon said quite sternly. “We can't follow the contracts. The guard will trace me back to Bereth, and the guild, and they'll get a step ahead of us.”
The former priest bit his lip and nodded. “You're right. This is an imminent threat. What do we do?”
“I was thinking about pushing straight to this tower,” Merdon suggested, pointing to the spot on the map that Red had guessed the tower was long ago. “We can avoid the main highway for most of the trip and cut across country. It's rougher terrain, but the less traveled the better.”
Sarel nodded in agreement. “The horse and wolves can help carry us, and the wolves can also sniff out any followers.”
Merdon sighed and pulled the contracts out of his pack. “I hate leaving these people in danger, but we're in trouble ourselves now.”
“Ensuring our safety comes first,” Skyeyes said, glancing at Red. “I think we all understand that.”
Without a word, Merdon passed the papers to Red, who lit them up and turned them into ashes. “It's all we can do to stay alive,” she added, looking at the human. “And thank you for helping us.”
The knight shook his head. “That's what friends are for.”
“Quickclaw does not believe friends commit murder for each other, verakt,” the blue kobold spoke with a chuckle.
“No, but you and I are much more than friends.”
It reddened her face to hear him say it so openly, and she was contending with more emotions inside of her. Her verakt, a human, not only understood the problems in his world but wished to face them. He was becoming much more than she ever thought he would be. Sure, in time she hoped he would understand their struggles, but she had never imagined he would vow to fix them, to fight his own kind, to take on a kobold name. Merdon was giving up his life for her; he had already, in fact. The moment he killed those slavers his path was set, and she knew that. Sarel bottled her feeling, held onto it, and swore she would help him in return. They were bonded by his acts in Ardmach, whether he knew it or not.
With their path established, ties severed, and plans formed, Merdon went to an early rest after sundown. They had a long way to travel and they would have to do it quickly now. Sarel joined him, naturally, but Skyeyes' rest was once more plagued. The white kobold sat up after everyone had laid down and stared at the sky. True to his name, at least, his eyes cast towards the heavens, he pondered his place any more. Without that amulet, without his priesthood, what was he? Merdon could be a murderer and a knight, but priests didn't kill. More to a point, priests could heal, and Skyeyes had discovered he no longer could. It shook his faith even further when he'd tried to help Red's sore muscles and found himself lacking.
Red hadn't said anything, but as she saw him awake in the middle of the night, she realized someone had to. “You are fine, Skyeyes,” she whispered to him, her voice startling him for a moment. “If your goddess was as good as you believed, she is not upset with the deaths of those in Ardmach. They were vile people.”
“But I'm not,” Skyeyes said, making Red scrunch her face in confusion. “The people at the cathedral, they treated me like a monster. Like I was … exactly what I acted like later.”
“Because they too are vile,” Red told him, her mind looking hard for the words he needed to hear. The former priest wasn't interested in platitudes though.
“Then everything I was told was a lie,” he replied quietly. “Those who worship the goddess Ethral are no better than any other hume.” It was the first time in a long time he'd said that, and he said it with such anger and fervor it scared Red for a moment.
Red shook her head and scooted closer to him. “Not all humans are bad, you know better than most.”
“After what they did to you?” he asked her, still angry. “Enslaving us, kicking me out of the cathedral, invading the slums. They're all...” He didn't want to say it, he had to stop himself.
“You know they aren't,” Red admonished him, the words coming easier now that it was something she was convinced of. “Look at Merdon, at what he's done for us. If there's one human that will fight for us then there must be others. Maybe they won't go so far, but there are more. They are not all bad.”
“It feels like it.”
Red nodded in agreement. “Just because we feel it, doesn't mean it's true,” she pointed out. “The only thing we can do is move forward, and take this one step at a time.”
After thinking about that for a while, Skyeyes looked at Red. “I am sorry for what happened to you.”
“I only hope I forget it one day,” she replied softly.
“We should rest,” Skyeyes said back, not having the words to help her with what happened. Red silently agreed and laid back down, a little closer to the white kobold this time. His dreams were still plagued, his mind full of thoughts about the church and those followers, but he rested until dawn at least. It was a single, but important, step towards recovery.