“And she said that exactly?” Merdon asked as he, Quickclaw, and Skyeyes, followed Cath back to the guild.

The blond girl nodded. “Yes, word for word, dire news for the kobold whisperer. And since you're the only one I've heard about...” It had to be for Merdon.

He contemplated what, exactly, this new kobold could have to say as they made their way up the street. Merdon knew, from asking Sarel and Skyeyes, that the general kobold population didn't like humans. Not that he really needed to have them confirm that for him, but it did mean that unless this was a very good assassination plot by the kobolds, which also made little sense, this new kobold was likely to be unassociated with them. A freelancer, like the two at his side, or perhaps a runaway slave. Which raised another issue if she were. He was part of a guild that returned legal property, even if he didn't like that. Hopefully no one posted a contract for her.

They arrived at the guild, and Cath led them into the back and up a staircase. There were several rooms on the second floor for passing guild members to use, or in this case an injured messenger. Merdon had seen similar rooms in other guilds, but never the ones in Bereth. It was a nice layout, a bit spartan with just a bed, table, and chair, but the window on the far side of the room made it a lot more friendly.

Upon the bed was the red kobold in question. The sack that she wore as clothes reinforced the notion she wasn't a free kobold like Quickclaw or Skyeyes and made Merdon hesitant. There was also a strange shield sitting next to the bed. It was large enough to cover the whole kobold's body if she were to crouch, just bigger than Merdon's own kite shield, but with a scary-looking face on the front.

The kobold looked at the four with a pair of amber eyes before asking Cath, “This is the one?”

Cath nodded and slapped Merdon's shoulder. “This is Merdon, your kobold whisperer. Note the kobolds following him.”

Skyeyes entered first and approached the red kobold. “Are you still wounded?” he asked with concern. She shook her head in response.

“I have a warning for you, whisperer,” she said, looking at Merdon. “My former mistress is coming for you.”

Merdon crossed his arms. “Who? And why?”

“She believes, as many do, that you have some power over us. Seeing you now, that is not true. I can tell.”

After a moment, Merdon said, “You don't speak like most kobolds.”

She shook her head again. “No. Many refer to themselves by name, but our mistress takes our names. She leaves us with nothing but collars.”

“Which you have freed yourself from,” Skyeyes noted.

“Who is your mistress?” Merdon asked, getting back to the point.

The red kobold looked worried for a moment and almost whispered, “A powerful witch. She lives in a tower on the other edge of the kingdom, bordering on three nations.”

Merdon frowned and thought. He was familiar with such a tower. It was prominent enough to appear on maps even. Though, he didn't know it was inhabited. Certainly not by a witch with kobolds.

“What does this witch think she can do to Quickclaw's verakt?” Sarel asked with a scowl.

“She believes he has a magic power, one she can extract and use for herself.”

The man laughed and looked at the red kobold. “I have no such power,” he reiterated bluntly. “She has no worries there.”

However, the lady kobold shook her head. “It does not matter. She believes you do and she will do anything to try and take it. If she finds no such ability then she may just kill you and be done with it.”

“Why!” Sarel shouted, her muscles tensed, ready to pounce on anything. “What monstrous hume did you serve?!”

Shrinking back against the bed, the other kobold replied, “She claims to love kobolds above all. Sees us as property to be collected. That another in the kingdom would 'steal' her prizes makes her very angry.”

That made Merdon set his jaw. “We'll confront this witch then,” he said with a quiet but hard voice. “If she means to threaten me and my companions there's nothing more we can do.”

“You know you won't get paid for that,” Cath interjected. “I mean, I might be able to set you up with some jobs along the way, if you don't mind taking a slower path, but this on its own isn't a contract.”

The new kobold perked up. She reached over, grabbed the strange-looking shield, and held it out to Merdon. “If the whisperer is truly intent, I can offer this.”

Merdon frowned at the shield and had to ask, “What is it? Other than a shield, obviously.”

“It's enchanted,” the kobold told him. She forced it into his hands and instructed him, “Tap the front with your hand or anything.”

Curious, Merdon did just that. The eyes seemed to glow, very faintly, but the most obvious effect was the low droning noise that even the others in the room seemed to hear. Skyeyes covered his ear holes, while Quickclaw shook her head. What was most important was what the red kobold did next. She opened her claws in an offensive way and slashed towards Merdon's exposed side. It was too fast, she was too close, and on the wrong side to be stopped by the shield. Yet, that was exactly what happened. As her claw closed in it was pulled towards the shield, yanking her body in an unnatural way and making her claws glance off the surface of the face. A minute later and the sound stopped as well.

“The shield, when active, guarantees protection,” she said. “I would not have made it here without it.”

The human hefted the shield, getting a feel for it. It was light enough, and being able to force attacks his way seemed like a good idea. Not to mention it forced them to a point where they would do the least amount of harm. He nodded to the red kobold before looking to Cath.

“Set up some of those contracts,” he told her. “In fact, the longer the path, the better it'll be. The witch won't know where to look for me.”

Cath nodded and walked out of the room. Sarel had been left with a question.

“Who told you where to find him?” she demanded from the red one.

Of course, all she could do was shrug. “I heard from the witch before I escaped. She said the kobold whisperer was in Bereth while she was scheming.”

That wasn't good enough for the thief. She turned, opened the door, and glanced at Merdon. “Buy us our own room at the inn tonight, verakt,” she told him. “Quickclaw is going to find out who in this town has such a big mouth.”

“Don't kill them,” Merdon warned her.

She paused and replied, “Quickclaw makes no promises.” Before the human could protest further, Sarel closed the door and made her way out to the streets. Information gathering was something she was good at.

Left alone with the last two kobolds, Merdon sighed and then asked the newest one, “What should we call you?” Since she had no name.

The red kobold frowned and tapped her claws together. “I am … not sure.” She knew she had a name, once, but it felt so long ago that she had heard it.

Merdon nodded. “No rush, I just think you should pick your own name if you can't remember your old one.”

She frowned and replied, “It is not quite that I don't remember as much as it was taken.”

Skyeyes considered that and told Merdon, “There are spells that can do such a thing. Although, if this witch can use those spells she is powerful indeed. We'd best be very careful trying to assault her keep.”

“What a vile woman,” Merdon muttered. “Still, it should be your choice. You don't need to think of one right now, just give it some thought.”

Looking down at herself, however, the lady kobold replied, “Red. Call me that.”

“That's more of a description than a name,” Skyeyes half protested.

Red shook her head at him. “It is something she cannot take from me, even if she were to get a hold of me again. I can't forget the color of my scales.”

If the witch could steal her memories of her name, or actually her name, then Merdon was sure she could take that too, but he kept that to himself. “Rest then, Red. We shall take care of this witch. And thank you for the shield. I'll put it to good use.”

Red smiled at him and leaned back in her bed.

“I will stay here, for now,” the white kobold told Merdon. “To make sure Red heals well. Kobolds are different from humans after all.”

With that, Merdon found himself alone for the first time in a week. He took his time getting to the inn, walking down the streets of Bereth slowly. Things seemed different with the revelation that some witch was hunting him. The usual smells from the bakeries and taverns, sweetbreads and savory meats, were dim. Even the sounds of merchants selling goods just down the street from the guild felt further away. Merdon usually felt at home as he walked around Bereth. A certain sense of security had been taken from him. After just a couple minutes of aimless wandering, he pointed himself to a different inn, one he hadn't stayed in before, and did as Sarel had asked. Skyeyes would have his own room for the night.

Bereth was quiet at night. The moon hung over the city, most of the residents asleep in their beds while the town was bathed in a cool light. A shatter of glass and frustrated howl would pierce the silence of the night surrounding The Howling Wolf, however. Neighbors would think the owner broke a glass or plate and howled in frustration, a problem with some lycans. Inside the closed up Tavern was a different story.

Sarel had launched a plate towards the owner, hesitant to draw her daggers immediately. The blue-furred wolf had proceeded to knock several candles over, dimming the lights in the room, as he chased after the kobold. Quickclaw, true to her name, was bounding from table to table while the lycan followed. More candles were knocked over, extinguished, until the room was left in complete darkness. Like all lycans, the owner felt at home in the darkness. His night vision was incredible. Unfortunately for him, kobolds could see just as well.

Quietly as she could manage, Sarel spun in the middle of a landing, launching herself back at the lycan. Her claws found purchase on his shoulder and in a blink she was digging in with her left and punching his back with her right. Assaulting him through his clothes and fur proved more difficult than she expected, and the lycan retaliated by running his back into a nearby wall. The kobold was dislodged with a cough, the air forced from her body, but she was still behind him. Her foot shot out and tripped the wolfman. His fall caused a great deal of clatter as he tumbled through chairs and tables.

Thinking as fast as she could, Sarel grabbed a chair and swung it as the wolf recovered. His howl of pain was cut short as he collided with the far wall of the tavern. The fall, the chair splintering on his body, and the impact on the wall, left his head in a dizzied state. Everything was swimming in front of his eyes. Sarel came over and pulled out a dagger, holding it to the wolf's throat. She held back a groan from her sore everything and did her best to look at him menacingly. Producing a threatening demeanor was difficult when one was small, but Quickclaw had to manage. Her investigation had led her back to this tavern, the first one to talk about a kobold whisperer was the lycan that was staring at her blade now.

“Why?” she asked him flatly, a bit too tired after their fight for words. A fight she was ashamed to have struggled with. The wolf was no adventurer.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “Cursed monster, attacking me, destroying my business. You're no better than a damned goblin.”

Sarel punched him square on the snout for that. A twisted crunch indicating she'd broken something, followed by his whimper, soothed her nerves.

“Why did you tell others that Merdon has powers?” she asked, more clear this time.

“Does he not?” the wolf practically huffed. “I've never seen a hume keep a kobold in line so well without a collar.”

Quickclaw growled and pressed the knife to his neck a touch harder, a reminder. “Now is not the time to insult Quickclaw. Tell her what she wants to know.”

“Because I thought he did,” the wolf said again, more afraid this time.

Sarel paused and then took her knife from his neck. “Stop with your rumors then,” she said, starting to walk away. To make a point, she grabbed another chair and bashed it against a table, breaking both of them into several large chunks. “They're bad for business.”

Her objective complete, Sarel sprinted out the front door and into the cool night. It was possible the lycan might get the guard, she knew, but a message needed to be sent. Messing with her was one thing, getting her verakt in trouble was another. She pushed her thoughts aside and focused on the sounds around her. Claws scraping on stone as she jogged along the paved roads towards the inn, the squeaks of signs as a light breeze swept through town. Most importantly, no sounds of metal boots on the road. It was safe, for the moment.

Quickclaw did find it odd that the innkeeper hadn't seen Merdon but it wasn't long before she made for the other inn Bereth possessed. Something about that irked her deeply. She knew how Merdon felt. Unsafe even inside this town he had lived in for years. That lycan had taken more from them than he knew and it made Sarel want to blow more steam off. A few more broken chairs wouldn't have been suspicious, she thought. It was too late for that now. Her claw pushed the wooden door of the other inn open and she almost demanded to know where Merdon was. The innkeeper noticed her tone and gave her the room's location without a fuss. Sarel didn't relax even after getting into the room.

It was a nicer room, she noted. Her claws were met with a fur rug, there were curtains blocking the windows, and a full-sized tub sat in the only corner not covered by fur. She scanned the room with her eyes looking for Merdon. He was asleep on the only bed in the room, a large bed at that. Sarel could only imagine how he'd felt with no one around him that day. All at once it hit her that was the first day they'd spent apart, and both conscious, since meeting. A sour feeling bubbled in her stomach.

First, however, she undressed and took a bath. It was likely to be the last time she could for a while. Unless they camped near a river or spring, and those were nothing compared to these magic heated tubs. Warm water soaking into her scales, a good lather working all the knots and stress out of her body just for one last night. She nearly purred, laying back in the water and closing her eyes.

In the midst of that, Merdon awoke and looked over at her. It had been more than a week since he'd seen Sarel undressed and while it stirred something primal in him he had bigger things on his mind. Wearing nothing more than a pair of loose underwear, he stepped over to the tub and leaned on the wall. Sarel had her eyes closed, enjoying her bath. He eyed her body again, thought about squeezing into the tub with her, giving her a bit of a surprise, but once more he shook the naughty ideas from his head. Instead, he cleared his throat. Quickclaw bolted upright and glared at him with water trailing down her chest.

“That is rude, verakt,” she chastised.

Merdon chuckled and pat her head. “Sorry. I wanted to know where you were all day.”

“Hunting,” she told him with a smirk. Noticing his confusion, she followed, “For the loudmouth that gave a witch the impression you had magic.”

“I see,” he replied flatly. “And?”

Sarel huffed. “It was the rude wolf from the tavern. He believed you did possess a special power because kobolds are monsters like goblins.”

There was a twitch in Merdon's eyes, a flash of rage before he ran his hand down Sarel's back, into the water. “He's a bigot,” the human told her. “And I'm certain you didn't just ask him a few questions and leave this time.”

The kobold smiled, leaning back into the hand rubbing her back. “No, verakt. Sarel gave him a roughing up and broke a few of his things. The wolf may live, but he will be repairing his business for a week.”

Merdon chuckled, but warned her, “You'll be lucky if he doesn't go to the guard.”

“Sarel dares him,” she replied with a bite in her tone. “She would love an excuse to get him out of the way.”

“There's no need for that, and you know it.”

“Not yet,” the kobold corrected him.

With a sigh, Merdon stood up and started back towards the bed. “Well, I'm going back to sleep. Tomorrow we're starting a journey.”

Water sloshed around Sarel as she stood up and stepped out of the bath to follow Merdon. “Yes, and we have important business to take care of before then,” she told him.

As Merdon turned to ask what that might be, Quickclaw grinned and stepped towards him totally naked. Her long tail swayed behind her as she got closer, prompting Merdon to get into bed.

Dawn came all too soon in Merdon's opinion, as he stood near Bereth's Northern gate waiting on his companions. Skyeyes arrived first, carrying his small pack and large staff. He smiled at the human and assured him that Red was well and resting. Sarel came up soon after, carrying both her and Merdon's packs. As he'd promised himself, Merdon had let her handle all of the shopping, and the knight's bag was loaded down with various supplies for a long trip, while Sarel carried a list of contracts they'd agreed to complete while on the road.

It was early in the day, mid-Spring, a calm morning where no guards had come to arrest them. They were all set to leave. Until a pair of claws were heard scraping on the stone behind them. Of course, that got their attention. There were very few races that made that noise, and the footfalls were too soft for a barefooted lycan.

It was Red, breathing hard and smiling at them. She was wearing something other than a sack, a pair of shortened breeches and a plain tunic. “I will come too,” she said to the group.

Skyeyes spoke out first. “No, it's far too dangerous. You already escaped this witch once.”

“Which is why I have to go with you,” Red insisted. “The collars she uses on her kobolds are enchanted. You need arcane magic to remove them.” Magic that Skyeyes couldn't provide.

Sarel's eyes widened. “You can do magic?”

Without a word, Red held out her claw and conjured a flame. “It took a very long time to figure it out without being caught, but it's how I escaped.”

The blue kobold looked at Merdon and said, “We cannot leave her here then. Kobolds capable of magic are very rare.”

Skyeyes sighed and agreed, “I'm considered an outsider for my own magics, which anyone with piety can perform. Red? She is something else.”

Merdon rolled his eyes and told them both, “It's not just that.” She wanted to come, she wouldn't drag them down, in fact, she could turn out to be helpful. “All right, Red,” the knight said, stretching. “Keep your eyes peeled, if a fight breaks out keep to the back, got it?”

The red kobold nodded, extinguishing her flame and smiling. “Yes, whisperer.”

“Also,” he sighed, “It's Merdon. I'm not a kobold whisperer. You know that.”

Red's face matched her name a bit more closely for a moment as she nodded in agreement. “A slip of the tongue.”

With a nod, Merdon picked up his pack and started down the road with the three kobolds around him.