Chance took the long route back to the cave from the hills, heading back down through the old goblin camp, across the bridge and along the path beside the stream. In part, he didn’t want to cross the stream out of respect for Yrip’s fears of running water, but it also gave him time for thinking and contemplation. He hadn’t had a whole lot of time for it since arriving. There always seemed to be something new happening or going on. If he was going to be brutally honest, he hadn’t done a lot of it prior to arriving either. He had always been a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, doing what he wanted, when he wanted, without much thought as to what came after. If it made him feel good, then that was all that mattered.

The pair walked in silence, the little kobold obviously deep in his own thoughts as well, as his scaly brow was furrowed. Chance would have given much to know what it was that Yrip was thinking, but asking would have been rude.

When at last they arrived back at Azval Stalvaq, they were greeted with changes. The big wolf lazed outside in the sun, snoozing away in its warmth. Nearby to the entrance, also in the sun, a wooden frame had been erected, formed of lengths of thin wood that had been lashed together with vines. From it hung a number of fish and a couple of rabbits, all skun and cleaned.

Shags cracked open a golden eye at their approach.

You return. It went well? he asked.

I got some answers, Chance responded.

Ah.

The wolf said no more, clambering up to his feet. Chance frowned as he looked at the wooden rack. “Snarl’s doing?” he asked.

Yes. To dry meat on. They are nomadic hunters after all, seldom settling down for long, and dried meat is easy to carry. He has been….busy.

Chance headed inside to find out just what Shags had meant by that remark. At their temporary campsite inside the cave, he found Snarl, busy sweeping. He had been doing a lot of that by the looks of it, for there was a substantial pile of ash and charcoal and dirt that had been swept up against a wall, cleaning part of the dragon’s lair nearest to where they had set up. The fire had been lit and a stew of some type bubbled in a pot over it. The place had been tidied up in general, sorted out and stored away.

Snarl looked up with a broad grin as they arrived, leaning on his broom. “Ah, you have returned. Good, good. Dinner is almost ready.”

“You have been busy,” Chance remarked, repeating Shags’ words.

Snarl nodded happily. “Oh, a little bit. There is a lot of potential here, once it has been sorted out. I might just take you up on your offer.”

“To stay?” Chance asked.

The hyena-man grinned again. “Yes. You could really use my help, it would seem.”

Chance laughed. “I am sure that we could.”

As Snarl returned to sweeping and Yrip settled down near the fire, Chance took out the parchment to check on it.

Camp Grimfang Cleared: 1/1.

Snarl’s decision to join them had fulfilled the conditions of that part of the quest, with the last of the gnolls having left the gnoll camp. Two were done and only one remained, and all without having to resort to violence. He called that a win. All that remained were the kobolds at Camp Halfscale. Yrip’s people. And to deal with them would require Yrip.

“Yrip,” he said quietly, “How are your people likely to react to your news?”

The small kobold shrugged, staring at the fire. “I do not know. I was not very important among them. My word carried little weight. It was why I left, to seek out the dragon, Nergezur, to offer my services personally to him. I wished to gain power.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“I’d rather not have any trouble with them, if possible,” Chance said.

“It is unlikely that we would.”

“But you can’t rule it out,” Chance pointed out.

The little kobold gave a soft sigh. “No.” He shook his head. “No, I can’t. But we need to free them.”

“Yrip, to continue my journey, to fulfil my quest, they can not remain where they are. They have to go.” He raised a hand to cut off any protest from Yrip. “When Snarl joined us here, it fulfilled the requirements for the gnolls to be gone. There is no reason that the same could not apply to your people as well. They could join us, here.”

Yrip stared at Chance, his brow furrowed. Chance could see the thoughts turning over in his mind. “They will not be servants,” he said at last. “We need no more masters.”

“That is not what I was suggesting, Yrip,” Chance responded.

Yrip nodded. “I know. I just needed for it to be understood.”

Snarl harrumphed and gave a fierce sweep of his broom, looking down at the pair. “They had best mind their manners,” he stated. “I have known kobolds before, and they are not exactly the tidiest of people. If they tramp mud all through here, leave rubbish around, I will not be happy.”

Yrip sighed. “We do have a reputation, it is true, but big changes are coming.”

Chance clapped a hand on Yrip’s shoulder. “That they are. We will see to it. But enough talk for now. I am starving and that smells good, Snarl.”

“Oh, it is just a little something that I threw together from odds and ends, with the help of Shags,” Snarl responded modestly. “I learned from old Mama Riptalon. Now, she could cook, but this is far from her level of skill.” The gnoll started dishing out the stew into bowls. “I will miss her cooking.”

“It isn’t too late to change your mind, to go and join your tribe,” Chance told him.

Snarl shook his head and gave a soft cackle. “To tell the truth, I was never really happy with them. I was too different. While we valued cleanliness, I know that my views on it were seen as obsessive, but it is who I am.”

Chance accepted a bowl of stew from Snarl and found a spot to sit on the ground. They really needed to bring in some large stones or a log to use as proper seating, and not use the ground. “Everyone is different,” he said. “I am more different than most, for a number of reasons. If you could meet those who knew me previously, they could tell you all about the trouble I was, the problems I caused.” He took a taste of the stew from the bowl. “Good stew.”

It was more than good he had to admit. The gnoll had real talent. It was meaty - rabbit he suspected, or at least hoped - but seasoned with various herbs and fleshed out with a number of vegetables.

Snarl brushed aside the compliment but his eyes shone with pleasure. Silence descended as they all ate, and ate well. The light outside began to fade as night approached.

Chance felt tired. As tough as the dwarven body was, resistant to fatigue, it had still been a long day. It wasn’t just a physical tiredness either, from all the walking that he had done, but an emotional and mental tiredness as well. A lot had happened, a lot had been revealed and he felt drained by it all.

And yet, as the others settled down to sleep, he found it hard to sleep himself, for all the weariness that had settled on him. He sat, staring at the flickering flames of the fire, the dancing shapes in it almost mesmerising. It took him a while to realise, so focused on the flames was he, that the wolf had settled down near him, and was studying him with great golden eyes that were both sombre and considering.

Well? the wolf asked.

Well, what?

You and I share a link. I can sense your thoughts, emotions. Not enough to read them but enough to receive sensations. You are confused, worried. Even a little frightened.

Chance nodded slowly. There is little wonder at that. There has been a lot to take in.

The big wolf yawned and shifted his position. Not just for you, it would seem. Both you and the little kobold have felt different, acted different since your meeting with the troll. He must have shared something of great importance to have the effect.

He did, yes.

Ah. Shags said no more on the matter. Chance did not know why the wolf did not press more on it, even ask about it, but then again Shags always continued to surprise. Sleep. You have need of it.

Easier said than done.

A wolfish grin responded to that. Then the wolf closed his eyes and all was silent.

Chance sat alone for a time as the fire burned lower. The wolf had spoken wisely; he did need sleep. Yet he could not seek it out, not straight away. He waited until he was certain the others were asleep, their various snores and snuffles giving evidence of it.

He let his eyes shut, took a deep breath and tried to relax. Then he turned his thoughts inwards, towards the part tucked away deep down that was not him, that he knew to be Craghand.

Hello, can you hear me?