Trout's Landing.

The Trap Master grunted and groaned as he awoke early in the morning. He rubbed his cold scales and look towards the fire that was barely a flicker now. He grumbled and slowly made his way over to throw a couple more logs on the fire before fanning it to get it burning hot again.

He yawned and turned to look around the cabin. Some of the tribe were already starting to stir awake now that the fire was warming their bodies up. He shook himself awake and grabbed his rifle that leaned against the wall by the door with a few others and a crate that held Jeb's other guns within next to them.

He opened the door and almost ran headlong into one of his skirmishers as they looked ready to open the door just now. The Trap Master looked at the skirmisher. His face was tired but there was concern in his eyes.

"What is it? What happened?"

The skirmisher looked ready to speak but couldn't seem to find the right words and instead beckoned the Trap Master to follow. So the Trap Master followed along, checking his rifle as he did and scanned his eyes about for what might have his skirmishers worried. The skirmisher led him over by the river where several of the other lookouts were also peering at the river. Some were huddled together by the pier and seemed to be looking at something.

"What is it?" The Trap Master asked as the skirmishers parted and allowed him a look at what they were staring at.

It was one of those frog/fish creatures. But this one was dead. VERY dead, he thought as he had the skirmishers retrieve it from the edge and onto dry land. Where they could all see the state of the corpse. It was burned. But not nearly as bad as it seemed. But he couldn't see anything else on it to suggest how it might've died. There were burn marks along its hide that indicated such. But there were also some places that looked like it had been scorched so bad that the flesh had blackened. When he grabbed the blackened flesh it crumbled to dust.

"Where did you find this?" The Trap Master asked.

"This one was stuck against the pier. But we've been seeing them floating along the river since the sun started to rise." One of them stated.

The Trap Master turned and looked up at the river just as another one floated by. This one wasn't burned but instead had normal looking wounds along its body that indicated combat of some sort. He hummed to himself as he looked out at the floating corpses. Now that he was paying attention he could also see streaks of red in the water as it flowed by as well. Heavily diluted from where its source was but he could still tell it apart from the murky river water.

"Did you hear anything during the night?" The Trap Master asked.

The skirmishers looked guilty and shuffled nervously.

"We're not sure. Some of us had a hard time staying awake, those of us that did said they heard something from further up river. But weren't sure what it could be."

The Trap Master grunted and stood before turning to the skirmishers.

"Get some rest and warmth."

The skirmishers nodded gratefully and left. Their replacements coming by soon after as they shook off the morning cold and lingering sleep. The Trap Master turned to them and spoke as they arrived.

"Prepare the boats for travel upriver. I will awaken Jeb."

The skirmishers nodded and rushed to get things prepared while the Trap Master marched towards the admin building to awaken Jeb. He marched through the dirty lobby and through the hall before coming to the door that led to Jeb's claimed room.

He knocked and waited for a moment. When he heard nothing he pushed open the door and peered inside. He saw the Den Mother sleeping soundly and bundled up in a sleeping bag with her eggs as the fire began to get low. The Trap Master walked in silently and replaced a couple of the logs before looking around for Jeb. But found no sign of him within the room.

He left the sleeping Den Mother and her eggs and marched back towards the river, the Chief joining him halfway there.

"Are you off then Trap Master?"

"Yes. Though I believe that Jeb has gotten a head start." The Trap Master explained as they arrived at the boathouse where three canoes were already in the water and were prepared for travel.

"Oh? How much of a head start then?" The Chief asked as the Trap Master hopped into the lead canoe.

"If what my skirmishers are saying are accurate. Several hours."

"Really?! Why would he leave so early?" The Chief asked.

"I don't know. But I have a few guesses. Regardless, we are heading out and should encounter him somewhere up the river."

"Then I wish you a safe journey." The Chief declared and waved as the Trap Master and some of his skirmishers pushed off and made their way up the river.

The Trap Master and one other skirmisher paddled one of the canoes while four others steered the other two. They grunted and pushed as they fought against the river in the somewhat unwieldy things. But despite the struggle they managed to continue on with minimal risk of being overturned by the river. As they went they encounter more of the creatures as they floated along the river in various states. Some had signs of being burnt. Others looked like they had been hacked and slashed by something. Every now and then a fish would swim up to a body and take a bite out of it, or in the case of the bigger fish take the whole body down into the murky river. As they paddled further up the river, the more clear the streaks of blood became.

Then they came to the first village. Or what was left of it that is, the Trap Master thought as they could smell the scents of death and blood before they could see it. They beached the canoes and embarked onto the patch of land surrounded by mountain and a couple of sparse trees. All around them was slaughter. Guts and entrails decorated the village and mountain walls and blood was soaked into the mud even as several streaks painted the mountains, turning them a shade of pink.

"What happened here?!" One of the skirmishers asked as they all tensed up and looked around fearfully.

The Trap Master looked down at the ground and could see where Jeb's bootprints were in the mud. Some of them were a little hard to see clearly with how the blood pooled thickly in some places but he got the general idea of where he was heading.

"Jeb beached his boat where he did. Then he embarked the same as us. He came over to this hut." The Trap Master described aloud to the other skirmishers as he followed the tracks.

He peered in and saw two of the dead creatures within.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Strange."

"What?" One of the skirmishers asked a little fearfully.

"These ones died differently from the rest." He explained as he examined the two within the hut and then the ones seemingly stashed around the side.

"These were killed silently." He explained finally.

"He snuck up and killed them quietly with something sharp during the night." He turned and looked at the mass of bloody corpses that were already rotting.

"But something went wrong."

"What?! So is Master Jeb dead?!" One of the kobolds asked with worry.

"No. There's no sign he died here. Plenty to suggest the opposite though." The Trap Master stated as he retrieved Jeb's pocket knife from the throat of one of the creatures.

He now had a good idea of what happened to Jeb last night. But then why hadn't he returned, the Trap Master wondered and looked around before spotting more of the dead fish things floating from further up the river.

"Come. We continue to follow the river." The Trap Master declared and they returned to their canoes and continued on.

As they did it was apparent that Jeb had forsaken stealth after the first village. Each one they came to was in worse shape than the first. Where the first had a measure of precise execution, these were simple and brutal butchery. As they came to village after village it only got worse as their populations seemed either bigger or more aware and willing to put up a fight, the Trap Master thought as they stopped at one of the villages and had a quick snack before continuing on.

At this point the Trap Master figured out why Jeb had left without them. Taking one look at his skirmishers was enough of a tell. Even as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky the cold still affected them greatly. The wind got worse the further they went and at least one of them had fallen asleep from the cold as it washed over them.

"We would've just been a hinderance to him." The Trap Master muttered to himself in anger.

The thought that Jeb had left them behind to go and fight by himself had angered him. Had they not proven themselves already? But as the weather got worse and worse and it began to take its toll on the kobolds he knew that eventually this would become a common occurrence. They simply weren't built for the coldness of their new home. Which made him angry at himself.

Jeb has already sacrificed so much for them and now he's been forced to fight their battles for them, he thought bitterly. Then there was the fact that according to Jeb it was just going to get worse. So much so that there was a good chance that the kobolds won't be able to come above ground no matter how much clothing they wear or how many fires they had burning.

His bitter thoughts left him as they turned a bend and came upon one of the larger villages. A pit formed in his stomach as he saw a ruined canoe beached off to the side. That's not a good sign, he thought as they paddled up and embarked near it.

The scene was the same as it had been elsewhere. Blood, gore, viscera aplenty were splattered everywhere. The crude buildings to the walls of the mountains to the ground itself. But with the ruined canoe they now began looking for something that didn't belong.

They searched as best they could as they sifted through the gore for any sign that Jeb was among it. Even having to shoo away some scavenger birds that had begun to stream into the canyon to feast on the grisly offerings.

Both relief and worry came to the kobolds as they found no sign that Jeb had perished here. But then where did he go, the Trap Master wondered as they looked around some more. Despite the fact that they found no boats at any of the villages, there was a possibility that they merely hadn't been at any of them before now.

But yet there were no boats either. No rafts. Nothing. Then the Trap Master followed a pair of familiar bootprints up to the side of the mountain. Where he found several holes within the stone. Spaced too consistently apart to be natural, he thought as he turned and looked at his skirmishers. They weren't doing too good.

Some were fighting to stay awake as the wind cut them all to their cores. Especially as they moved further and further upriver. It was likely that they'll end up losing someone at this point, he thought as he marched over.

"You and you. Secure the boat and return to the lodge. Get warm and then return to retrieve the traps from the first village." He commanded.

The kobolds had an internal fight about wanting to stay and continue. But a strong gust of cold wind that swept across their scales was enough for them to nod gratefully and rushed off to secure the ruined canoe to their own before setting off back down the river with it in tow.

"What now Trap Master?" One of those remaining asked.

"Now we continue on." He declared and they returned to their boats and continued up the river.

The Trap Master kept his eyes up and on the wall. He could see where the holes were formed from where Jeb had climbed up somehow. He could also see where they transformed into gashes in the stone as it looked like something began to run across the stone on four legs.

A flick of the tongue and a glance down at the water proved that they were nearing the end of their search. The river was now a crimson red except for a few streaks of murky brown here and there. As they rounded the last bend they were met with a few things. That the wind wasn't as bad now that the area had opened up a little more and no longer acted as a funnel for it. That Jeb was most likely here somewhere, and that he had been busy last night.

By far the largest of the settlements they came across so far, and the entire place looked to have been razed. They beached the boats and looked around as the scents of putrefaction and burning flesh filled the air along with the thick scent of blood and the sounds of carrion birds rang out as they feasted upon the remains.

Several of the crude buildings that still remained were plastered in gore and viscera from the various frog/fish things. Among their number were also strange crawfish like things that were huge compared to the kobolds! Blood formed deep ponds in the mud and flowed towards the river as the skirmishers made their way through the blood bog of bodies and death. Smoke filled the air as a strange, yet familiar, blue fire eagerly ate away at anything it could touch. Wreckage, bodies, carapace, it didn't matter to it as it consumed it all the same. The scavenger birds kept clear of the flame with a cautious glint in their eyes.

"Watch out!" The Trap Master called out in warning as a brief gust of wind turned a bigger flame towards one of the skirmishers.

The skirmisher held up his claws in protection and prepared to be scorched like many of the corpses around them and closed his eyes. But he felt no pain. No burning. Nothing. He peeked open his eyes and saw the blue flame as it blew towards him, and even licked his scales! But he felt nothing. He only felt a mild warmth from it as it warmed his cold scales.

The rest of the kobolds looked on in shock and wonder. Sure they had some resistance to fire, kinda had to when one lived in a volcanic area with a master that breathed fire. But even they weren't entirely immune to being burnt to a crisp!

The Trap Master walked over cautiously towards the blue flame. It was a ghostly thing that seemed to flicker and move like it was searching for something. He held his breath and slowly reached his claw out and into the flame itself. It sputtered for but a moment from the movement but then surrounded his arm!

Yet he felt nothing. Only a mild yet comfortable warmth from the eerie flame. The flame didn't burn him. Didn't burn any of them as even the others tried their luck at touching the blue flame. All had the same affect. Comfortable warmth, but no burning.

The Trap Master thought back to when he first saw this fire that Jeb had conjured. It was during their expedition into the spider nest. He could still recall the screams and hisses of pain and agony as the fire licked and consumed everything behind them as they ran away from the inferno. But they never did feel any suffocating heat. Not one of them had gotten burnt from it.

Now again here. All around them the fire licked and ate greedily of flesh, carapace, and buildings all. Yet when it washed over the kobolds it was nothing more than a bit of comfort from the cold wind and river.

They turned when they heard a noise coming from one a wreckage of a lookout tower. One of the slimy creatures slowly pulled itself out of the wreckage and stood on wobbly legs and looked around. When it spotted them it gave a gurgling cry and rushed right at them!

The kobolds swung their rifles up and were about ready to open fire on it when the Trap Master raised his arm for them to hold their fire. He held his own rifle and marched towards the rushing creature. As it neared he turned it around and slammed the butt of it into the face of the creature. The thing yelped and fell down to the bloody muck. Dazed but not dead. He knelt down over the thing as the others surrounded it with their rifles trained.

"Where is the human?" The Trap Master asked. The thing just gurgled and took a uncoordinated swipe at him. He asked it again a few more times but the answer was the same. Gurgling and token swipes and snaps. But nothing useful.

"What do we do with it?" One of them asked.

Before the Trap Master could answer, the creature lunged forwards and knocked him back before running towards the river! The kobolds swung their rifles to gun it down before it could escape! But the thing was still dazed and tripped on a piece of debris. Knocking some of the still burning wreckage down and on top of it.

It cried out as the flame flicked and licked at its slimy flesh. Gurgles and grunts came out panicky as it tried to escape. The Trap Master hurried over. But not to save the creature, but instead to watch what happened.

He watched as the fire acted like normal fire as it charred the flesh. But he could also see something within the creature's eyes. Something different. After a moment it was simply gone. The Trap Master had seen the light leave the eyes of things. People or beast. But this was different. It didn't just leave. It was burned out of it.

He was sure the Chief might know more, he thought as he left the creature to burn in the balefire with the rest of its kin. He turned back around and looked about at the carnage. Blackened earth that was familiar to them from back when Jeb had dealt with the dwarves as well as cruel vines that still wrapped corpses and structures possessively. He tried to look for Jeb's tracks but there was so much blood and destruction that he gave up after just a cursory look.

He was here alright, he thought. But he wasn't sure where he could've went to. He saw no more holes or gashes within the stone of the mountain, and he wasn't sure if Jeb willing to swim through a river tunnel for who-knows-how-long the cold water went for.

He sighed and looked around. They hadn't seen anything to suggest that he was still here among the dead. He turned towards the skirmishers as they sifted through the wreckage and he could see them pocketing the faintly glowing stones that littered the place along with some of the algae.

"We're leaving." He declared at last.

"But what about Master Jeb?" One of them asked as they made their way over to the boats.

"He is gone. Where to, we don't know."

"What do we do then?"

The Trap Master stopped as he placed his claws on the boat.

"It isn't the first time that Jeb has disappeared for most of the day. As we have yet to find signs that he has perished we will continue to believe that he is safe and alive still."

"What do we tell the Den Mother? Or the Chief?"

"We will inform the Chief of what has happened so far. But we tell the Den Mother nothing. It is just as likely that Jeb will return after a time and we shouldn't worry her without being certain that something has happened to Jeb. With any luck he will return after a time as he always has."

"And if not?" One of them asked uncertainly.

The Trap Master paused. He took a shaky breath before continuing.

"Then we will decide and discuss what to do next."

With that they hopped into the boats and made their way back down the river. Leaving the scene of death and carnage behind for the scavenger birds to continue their feast unbothered by their presence. All of them hoping that Jeb was alive, safe, and would return home to them soon.