Merdon was sitting in the waiting room of a large manor on the rich end of Ardmach near sunset. Their contract, a simple delivery, sitting on his lap. It was a box that contained jewelry for the dragonkin woman who owned the estate he was on. He had been let inside and led to the sitting room by a kobold dressed plainly, and it made his heart sink to see it. At once, he was glad Sarel and Red were tucked away in the kobold district instead of being subjected to the sight he saw. Further, the entire manor seemed kept by kobolds. Various shades and hues of the little lizard-like creatures scampered about, cleaning windows, dusting, sweeping, mopping. Apparently, there had been a sizable gathering earlier in the day which had ended up delaying Merdon's arrival at the contractor's request. So, he sat, and waited, being served tea and cookies.

Still, as soon as he finished the delivery he could go collect his team and they would leave the city of Ardmach behind them. He had promised Sarel they wouldn't stay, and he would hold true to his word. Even if it was strange to almost everyone he came across that he'd stayed in his armor the whole time. Ardmach was a safe place, for humans, but the necessity of their swift exit from the city had left him little choice. This rich dragonkin had wanted an armored escort for her trinkets after all and it wasn't like Merdon had somewhere he could stash his stuff for a few hours. Renting a room at the inn would have been a waste as well. Most of his things were at his side, in a pack, which he would take with him back to Sarel's mother's place if he could find it again. They could leave straight away afterward.

After sitting for over an hour, the owner of the mansion finally came in to greet Merdon. She was taller than he was, standing at a mountainous seven and a half feet, and even under her gown the human could tell she was strong. Her bright red scales contrasted with the darker color of her dress, yet the whole thing worked in a simple way. He felt the warning of her scales color, that she was dangerous, as many dragonkin were. Tough, intelligent, long-lived, even the softest among them was enough for a troop of guards, and the one that stood before Merdon was no different. He nodded to her, hoping not to offend, and held out the box he'd been sitting with.

The dragonkin smiled and took it from him. She opened it right away and inspected the contents. “It's all here,” she murmured to herself. “Good job.” Her praise felt strange like she was talking to a dog.

“Thank you,” Merdon replied. It was all he could think to say. “I trust you've been informed of the odd payment method?” He was to be paid immediately, rather than having the funds left at the guild, as with his other contracts on this journey.

She nodded and produced a coin pouch from her flowing gown. “It's all there, believe me.” He had no reason to suspect otherwise. “But tell me, what is the reason for this change?”

Merdon took the coins and cleared his throat. “I'm on another quest,” he told her simply. “In traveling, I don't have the time to return to Bereth for my reward.”

Hearing the city's name made the dragonkin raise a brow. “Bereth? So far from home you are. Tell me, what do you think of Ardmach?”

“It's quite large,” he replied shortly, but the way the dragonkin's eyes dimmed as he said something so simple told him that wasn't what she expected. “It feels dull.” He decided to be honest. “The cathedral is wonderfully lit and bright, but the rest of the city seems dull, plain, very militaristic.” Like the rest of Avant.

Her eyes sparked at that response. “I agree completely,” she told him quickly. “The city should be more like the elven capital, they call it the jewel of their nation. It's even named jewel in elvish.”

Merdon hadn't heard, but he nodded in recognition. “The elves I've met have always cared a lot about how things look.”

“Looking good is important, sir knight. It's what separates us from the animals.”

The knight glanced at one of the kobolds behind her and then back to the dragonkin. “Perhaps you should give your servants better clothes,” he suggested. “I met a mayor recently who gave his human servants suits.”

“Oh?” she giggled. “How curious indeed. Kobolds in suits. Like dressing up monkeys!” Her giggle turned into laughter, which Merdon did not return.

“Doesn't it bother you?” he asked her. The dragonkin raised her brow in return, questioning his question. “That they're like you, yet they live in shackles.” How could the state of the kobolds not upset her?

Merdon got his answer in the form of another laugh. “You're serious? These kobolds are nothing like us. We're as close to being enslaved as you are because of trained chimps.”

He only grunted in response and gave a stiff half bow. “Good evening, my lady,” Merdon excused himself, rather curtly, which made the dragonkin glare, and he stepped beyond her to reach the great entrance hall she had.

Outside, and glad to be done with his errand for the guild, Merdon traveled down the dirt path many of the extra rich Ardmach gentry had brought to their manors. They could grow trees on top of rocks and thought themselves superior for doing so. Their ancestors had used magic to level a mountain top, now they cultivated ground that shouldn't be capable. It was that kind of arrogance which had started to wear on him during his trip through the elite class' section of the city. Quite simply, their way of life clashed with his own, and as annoying as they were to him, they weren't doing anything technically wrong. Kobold slavery was something he didn't like, never had, but there was nothing he alone could do about it. Change would come, in time, when it was ready, and no one could force it. He and Sarel would just have to weather that period.

Merdon shifted, settling his armor a little after having sat for so long, and started the long trek back out of the district. It was a lot easier to move around than the kobold slums. Bigger streets between large manors, less foot traffic, even as the sun set it was bright enough thanks to lamps and torchlight to see. Eventually that all slipped away, giving out to nothing but sputtering torches as light-giving crystals that power lamps were much rarer and thus more expensive. Still, he could see the cathedral in the distance and felt at ease. They would leave soon, that was the only thing on his mind. A walk back down to the slums, collecting Sarel and Red, perhaps bumping into Skyeyes on the way there, and they could leave Ardmach behind them and continue their journey. He reveled in the idea, which made him blush for a moment.

He had never had traveling companions like the kobolds before. There had been the odd job here and there where he went into a cave with a couple of others, but no one had stuck around, and certainly no one he attached to as much as the kobolds. Sarel was a whole other set of emotions, yet they lent to the same feeling. The human did not want to stop traveling with them. They were his friends, something he thought would be too difficult to keep being an adventurer like he was. People naturally shifted away from others in dangerous lines of work after all. To find ones he wanted to be around, even if they weren't quite people, was refreshing. His life had never been lonely per se, but the knight couldn't imagine things without them anymore.

Just outside of the high-class district, Merdon spotted something strange. A wolf with piercing eyes sat in an alley off to his side. The knight glanced around, then quickly walked into the alleyway with a smirk. He expected to find Sarel, finished with her mother and searching for him. What he hadn't expected was to see three more wolves and Skyeyes sitting atop one of them with a harrowed expression on his face. One of those things alone would have given Merdon cause for concern, both of them together left him with only a single question on his mind.

“Where's Quickclaw?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.

Skyeyes swallowed. “She was taken. … by slavers.”

Merdon's hand reflexively clenched, as though he were trying to grasp an invisible sword. Without another word, he slung his pack onto the ground and dug through it. He was armored, but not entirely. His helmet and shield were stowed away, as he hadn't expected to come across anyone with that skill set in the city. Going after slavers, however, he would take no chances. Thinking ahead, he passed his gear to a wolf and looked at Skyeyes.

“Have the wolf take this somewhere close to the gate out of the city. When this is over, we'll have to run. Even if we don't kill anyone an attack on the slave trade here in the heart of Ardmach is unheard of,” he explained succinctly.

Skyeyes nodded and sent the wolf off to do as Merdon said. He would know where the wolf was when the time came. “Red was taken too,” the priest added just then. Merdon only nodded in response. The human had figured as much.

With his preparations complete, Merdon laid out a plan for Skyeyes. The white kobold would use his team of wolves to make a distraction, much like the fort full of bandits. When the slavers on duty stepped out to see what was going on, the knight would step in and knock them out. He was still trying to limit casualties even with Sarel on the line. It was something that made Skyeyes respect the human. His unwillingness to kill wantonly shown a side of humanity Skyeyes hoped for, the same kind of things the goddess Ethral encouraged.

Once they were inside, the wolves could guide them to Sarel and Red with ease, and hopefully, they could do it without rousing the entire wrath of the Ardmach guard. If they did, they'd need to get out of the city as quickly as possible, and definitely lay low after their quest was over. In fact, Merdon was thinking they'd need to lay low anyway, for a time. A vacation sounded nice after everything he'd dealt with in Ardmach. He was sure the kobolds would feel the same way. Maybe somewhere the Avant authorities couldn't reach them, just in case.

Their plan was set, so the two set off to enact it. Skyeyes stuck to the alleyways while the human walked through the streets. He was worried about Sarel and his body language said so, but his thoughts and actions were all calm and calculated. Something his father had taught him that he desperately tried to employ at every turn in his life. Nothing kills a man quicker than acting without thinking. It was a lesson Merdon had encountered several times in his life, and many more once he started adventuring. People got riled up, they got scared, or they got cocky. As soon as their wits left them for any reason they started making simple mistakes, costly mistakes.

Merdon wanted to charge headlong into the kobold processing center, the only one in the city of Ardmach, the monopoly which kept the kobolds bent on their knees, but he knew such an action would get one, or all of them, killed. It was better he took this approach, pretending to be detached, letting his mind work before his emotions. While it may have seemed cold, it kept him alive for years, even if he admitted to himself it was part of what made him distant from others. An invaluable skill with a high cost, but a cost that was going to save his verakt. A cost that had gotten him one in the first place. He set his shoulders and fixed his gait; cleared his mind and focused on the task at hand. There would be no going back if he messed this up. No margin for error existed in the assault.

Slavers didn't really use force, not like bandits at least. Not the ones operating in Ardmach anyway. It was unlikely they would encounter anyone with armor, or anyone ready to fight a knight, but they would be armed, and they would be trained. None of which counted the advantage of being attacked in their own base. The slavers would know the field of battle much better than he or Skyeyes. Considering it, the only thing they had on their side was surprise, which wouldn't last long. If even one man got away conscious or faked it, an alarm would go up. Were that to happen, they'd be put on a time crunch as well. Before long, the Ardmach guard would arrive and then there would be no escape. Even if they managed to knock everyone out as they went through the building the sounds of fighting would carry and each successive room would be more prepared.

Still, Merdon was steeled in his mind. It was like this every time he got ready for a fight. The goblins, the bandits, the wolves, he was always trying to think ahead, plan faster and further than his opponents. Sometimes he missed something critical, but it was a tactic that had served him very well, in his opinion. But this? While not quite a suicide mission it was as close as one could get. A jailbreak, the biggest jailbreak in the history of Avant, was not something to scoff at. In fact, the vacation he had been considering before seemed more of a permanent move the closer he got to his destination. Their goal, the witch's tower, sat on the corner of several nations, much like Bereth did. All they would have to do is leave Avant.

While Merdon considered leaving the nation that had been his home for his whole life, he realized where he was. The time was now. Quietly as he could in full armor, the knight slipped around a corner and waited in the darkness of an alleyway. He peeked out and looked at the building they were about to infiltrate. It stood short but wide, probably cheaper to build that way, and it wasn't like kobolds took up much space. Merdon also imagined it made escape a bit harder. There were no other exits he could see, even though the building was like setting several taverns next to each other. With no experience on the inside, it was possible the building was a maze as well, and they would have to rely on Skyeyes' wolves to make swift progress.

Across from him, a wolf crept out from behind a box and padded up to the door. Skyeyes was nearby, they were both in place. It was time to start. Merdon took a deep breath and calmed himself down one last time. Speed, stealth, precision; they would need those three things to pull this off. Being encased in steel, he wasn't sure he had those first two, but he had to try.

The wolf started scratching at the door and making noise, almost like a dog, but much deeper. With a strained ear, Merdon could hear someone making a ruckus behind the door. When it opened, he would have to move several feet very quickly. He stood, feet in position, ready to run the moment he heard a shout. Creaking of wood and metal filled the air, the sound of the door opening, and the man inside shouting as the wolf leaped up on him. Steel blotted those noises out as Merdon ran, sprinting around the corner, shield in hand, and rushing the front door. A portly man looked confused, a wolf biting his shirt and a knight rushing him with a shield out in front. His confusion came to an abrupt end as Merdon smashed his face in, knocking him back and onto the cold stone floor of the interior. Skyeyes arrived a moment later, still mounted and looking around worried.

The inside of the building was carefully constructed to reduce the efficacy of kobold features. Ceilings were low to prevent them from climbing out of sight, on top of the walls being stone to prevent climbing at all. From what Merdon could see, the corridors twisted and turned at odd angles, making it hard to follow them with your eyes, and the place was generally chilly. He wondered, for a moment, if the cold would make the kobolds docile, like lizards without a heat source, until someone shouted from down the halls. Obviously, their intrusion wasn't undetected, and Merdon moved to rectify that as best as possible.

He shut the door behind them and pulled the unconscious man behind the long wooden desk that sat at the front. There might be information there they could use if they had the time. Sadly, there wasn't much as the man who was yelling suddenly came up. With Skyeyes sitting on a wolf in front of him, Merdon holding the body of his coworker on his left, it was pretty easy to guess what would happen next. The man yelled something incredulous at the two and hefted a club at his side. The knight was running on pure adrenaline and simply slammed into the bulky man, bashing him much like the previous one. Unlike the last one, the club holding man didn't go down, and instead shoved Merdon back before yelling, “We got a fighter!”

Surprise was no longer their ally and time was never on their side. Merdon swung again, harder, catching the man off guard as he expected the knight to draw his sword. The second blow made him cross-eyed and he sunk to the floor like a heavy bag of flour. With no time to waste, he looked at Skyeyes.

“Use the wolves, find their scent.”

Merdon didn't need to say anything more. Three more wolves appeared, controlled by Skyeyes, five in total including the one he was riding and the one that had helped them get in. The four he wasn't on top of spread out and went down different halls. Shouts were heard all the way back at the entrance, but Merdon kept focused. He was waiting to hear that Skyeyes had something before they moved. Nothing, as the priest indicated by shaking his head.

“There are too many scents, and most of them strong,” he told the knight.

Merdon paused and thought. “Take us to them then.” Perhaps disguising their assault as a mass break out would take the heat off of them. Strong smells might belong to long-held kobolds, ones desperate to escape. They could go first.

Skyeyes nodded and spurred his wolf along, with Merdon following in the rear. They traveled up one hallway which curved so gently it made the way they entered it vanish and appear as though there was no end seamlessly. A decent trick to be sure. At the end of it, they came to another section of the prison, which it was to Merdon. More men with weapons were trying to fight off the wolf that had led them there, and Merdon jumped in without hesitation. His style with the shield was shockingly effective, and having a wolf to distract one of the men certainly helped. No more than three quick bashes were required, and the knight wasn't at all concerned with the trickles of blood coming out of noses when he was done. It was almost therapeutic in a way.

Merdon checked a nearby hall before turning to the door with a big padlock on it. Nothing he could break with his gear, but there were two conveniently unconscious guards right next to him. One of them had a set of keys, which Merdon liberated from the man's belt and, after some attempts with different ones, eventually opened the lock and pushed the door in. He imagined the look of relief on the kobold's faces as he set them free. Their glee at someone other than a captor opening the door. That was not what awaited him.

A foul stench caused him to recoil and gag into his helmet, though he didn't take it off. As an adventurer, Merdon had smelled many terrible things. The waste dumps of cities, unwashed masses, goblins who lived and reveled in filth, on a few occasions even dead bodies. This was much worse to him. It was a smell any mother with a horny son would find, but the potency was astronomically worse. Looking inside revealed kobolds with empty gazes, for the most part. What ones weren't like that were sobbing. No more complete a hell could Merdon imagine than what sat open before them. Something a thousand baths in steaming hot water could never fully remove, and it was all stuck to them.

Merdon stumbled back and braced himself on a wall while Skyeyes looked in and retched. “I had heard...” The priest was halted by another round of gagging. “Male kobolds even... our anatomy is such that...” He couldn't finish, but Merdon could guess. Kobold males were hard to tell from the females, at least where it mattered to men like these.

The knight stood up and looked at slaver on the ground, and then back into the room, making sure Sarel wasn't among them, or Red. No, these weren't men, he decided. These were the monsters. A ringing built up in his ears as his fist clenched around the air, hungry for a sword. It was belted at his side, but he wasn't committed yet, not yet.

“What do we do?” Skyeyes asked, turning away from the room. “We have to go, but I don't think we can help these ones.” They were too damaged to be moved, they would resist the human. Skyeyes could lead them, but it would leave Merdon alone. He sat and waited, but Merdon didn't say anything. So, he asked again, “Merdon, what do we do?”

Merdon looked at Skyeyes, his expression hidden by his helm. His silence continued as he looked at those on the ground, unconscious as the miasma of their deeds pour out and surrounded them. It made him sick, it upset him. He couldn't help but imagine Sarel in there. With no more thought than anger on his mind, Merdon drew his sword and ran it into the back of the man nearest him. The slaver jerked, gasped, and sputtered his last breath as he went still. That spot was the same one Sarel had used back in the fort; Merdon remembered it well. Skyeyes sat, dumbfounded, and looked at Merdon with worry.

“I'm the only human who walks out of here,” he said to the priest as he flicked his blade, throwing some of the blood off before he moved to the second unconscious man. “Have your wolves find any others. All of the kobolds, all of the slavers.” His voice sounded distant thanks to the cold steel around his head and face, but on some level, Skyeyes knew.

The priest nodded, his head shaking, and he directed the wolves. After another passing glance into the room, he moved to the other side. “There's a group down this hall, heading this way,” he told Merdon quietly. “More kobolds down there too.”

Merdon grunted and moved into position, blocking the hall. His sword and shield in hand, the tip of the blade with a thin layer of blood on it, he looked intimidating to the white kobold. Skyeyes had to remind himself though this was an outcome that could have happened anyway. If Merdon had been pushed there was no way he would leave Red and Quickclaw in this place. He would have fought and killed, but he didn't think the man would stab unaware men in the back. The brutality, that's what was getting to him most. For all of the things they had been through, from what Skyeyes had heard, Merdon rarely turned violent and often voiced respect for Sarel for avoiding it. Watching him stab two helpless men in the back gave the priest chills, but as he watched Merdon roar and rush the next three men coming down the hallway, slinging their blood of their comrade in their faces to put them off, he realized just how broken the man in armor had become.

Shaking his feelings off, Skyeyes had his wolves join the battle. He jumped off the one he was riding and had the one that had gone down the hallway turn back around and ambush them from behind. With a moment of clarity, Skyeyes realized Quickclaw and Red could be in a room similar to the last one, not that one exactly, but there was no telling how many more there were. Merdon's rage not only made sense but swelled within his chest. His friends were in danger, he wasn't a priest anymore, no goddess was watching over him, there was no hume law that applied to him, and these humans were his enemy. The wolf that approached from behind jumped up and bit the nearest slaver in the neck. A blood-curdling scream made the other two turn and look at him in surprise, and gave Merdon more than enough time to impale them one after the other. Without armor, these humans didn't stand a chance against a man in full steel and a pack of wolves. Their mouths hung open in shock as they each fell over, limp and lifeless, like life-sized dolls. Thinking about it like that made things easier for Skyeyes, but not Merdon.

Merdon kept himself well aware they were killing humans, his people, to save kobolds. His kobolds, his friends. He let anger take him as they prowled the halls. It was the first time he'd ever felt like this, and it felt good. Acting in tandem with Skyeyes' wolves, which were now going for kills themselves, there wasn't a single human in the building that could withstand them. Every corner was another death trap, a shield blocking strikes while a wolf bit their legs and dragged them down, a wolf lunging and knocking them over to open a path for Merdon. For a brief time within those halls, Merdon became a fearsome avatar of death. Slavers started to beg, one even threw his weapon away and tried to escape, but Merdon refused to show mercy. Steel, both blade and armor, became tinged with red. Precision strikes were made on all of his targets, whether he went around a wolf to land it or found the opening himself. Just the tip of the blade, no more than six inches no matter where he had to stab from, was all it took to end their lives.

The knight had tossed the keys to Skyeyes after the first hallway and left opening the cells to him. It was vengeance Merdon was interested in now, and if Skyeyes could find the girls before he could then it would be all the better. He didn't. Kobolds were freed, and Skyeyes told them to be careful as he undid their shackles and collars, but he didn't see their friends. They had no way of knowing how many more hallways there were, which ones were dead ends, and at more than one point they had to double back. Each time they did, Merdon got angrier. Even with his helmet on, the priest could tell. Merdon's patience was running thin. Eventually, inevitably, they came to a hallway where two men were speaking, terrified, to one another.

“What the hell is happening?” the first one said, unaware that Merdon was around the bend. “I saw a wolf eating one of our guys! Where did a wolf even come from?”

“Wolves?” the second asked in disbelief. “I saw guys with stab wounds, like someone with a knife was running around. I thought we had a runner.”

The first fellow laughed. “Wolves with teeth like knives? Goddess help us,” he whined.

Merdon came around the corner at last and banged his shield, getting their attention and making that dreadful droning sound. “There's no god to help you here,” he growled at them before charging.

They were woefully under-prepared. The first man had a whip that did literally nothing against the steel surrounding Merdon. His friend had a knife, which the knight easily parried, disarming them both. While they fell back and begged, Skyeyes started working on the door they had been standing near. Merdon roared and stabbed the two, even in his anger he used that perfect depth to reach their hearts. At the same time, Sarel and Red stepped out of their confinement, surprised and relieved to see Skyeyes, and then shocked to see Merdon. Blood was dripping from his sword and clung to his armor like a sign of his sins. No matter what the reason was, Merdon had killed every single slaver in the building, every single human except himself. Hesitantly, Skyeyes confirmed that.

“The wolves have checked everywhere. There's … no one left. The kobolds have run away, but it won't be long before someone notices,” he said quietly.

Merdon grunted and at last, cleaned his sword off before putting it away. “We have to go,” he told the two. Sarel didn't argue, she didn't even ask to look for her things. She could smell the blood, and not just what was on Merdon. The further they went through the building, the more carnage they saw.

Slavers were up against walls, their fingers clawing in agony with bites taken out of their throats, legs, and arms. Skyeyes had directed the wolves in perfect symphony, which left the white scaled priest looking paler than usual and distant. Red retched at one point, during which Skyeyes hopped down and helped her up onto his wolf, leaving Merdon free to usher Sarel closer to his side. The blue kobold was stunned at every new body. She saw the strikes to the back, imitating the one she'd given a bandit in the fort. Her verakt was a studious one when it came to battle. Still, she wondered what had happened to him, what had caused this. Until she saw the room anyway.

It was impossible to miss, and the last few kobolds were being helped out of the room, sobbing and limping along with the help of more able kobolds. Red averted her eyes, but Sarel couldn't. She looked, frowned, and seethed. This was what humans did to her kind, and in a moment of clarity, she realized that was what set Merdon off. Seeing those things done to her kind had pushed him over some edge, and it made her heart ache. Merdon was aware, as she had been, the things humans would do to kobolds, and rather than turn away as many did he decided to confront the aggressors. On the one hand, she hated that he knew, his optimism had been part of his charm, but on the other, she was glad he understood now.

Merdon didn't even look, he didn't slow down, he just kept them moving out the door. There was no time for thoughts such as those, not for him. “We have to get to our horses,” he said quietly.

“The wolf is waiting with your pack near the stables,” Skyeyes replied, a claw resting on Red's shoulder in comfort.

The knight grunted a response and they moved that way. His pack was easy to find, and the stable was easy to get into.

“Our horses are not in here,” Sarel said quietly.

“We're not taking our horses,” Merdon replied. “Skyeyes, you take Red on the wolf. Quickclaw and I will ride a horse. That should buy us a day or two.”

Sarel frowned and looked at Merdon. “We are not stopping for the gate guards are we.”

He shook his head. “And I'm not taking my helmet off either. We're going, full speed, down the mountain.” It was risky, especially at night, but there was a problem with his plan.

Quickclaw shook her head. “Hold for a moment, verakt,” she told him. The blue kobold scampered off into the stable and returned with a wet rag. It was used for cleaning horses, but she used it to scrub his armor off. “They already know you, and they know about us, but they may not know about the slavers yet. We have to use this to our advantage.”

“What do you mean?” Red asked nervously, finally speaking after so long. She was glad to be free of the shackles, which Skyeyes had promptly removed upon finding them.

Sarel glanced at her, then focused on Merdon's armor again. “We leave like normal citizens and they won't chase us. Not immediately.” But they'll know exactly who it was once the city investigated.

Merdon sighed, resolute already. “You're right. We'd never escape them if we just bolted from the city. I was impulsive.”

The blue kobold smiled at him, then looked at Skyeyes. “You two should walk, then remount on the wolf once we are beyond the guard's sight. That will give them more time to figure out it was us.”

Skyeyes didn't question her, he simply stepped off with Red and let the wolf vanish. Sarel was the thief. If anyone knew how to get away relatively clean, it was her. They followed her playbook, stealing a common horse in good condition, and then riding it to the gate with Red and Skyeyes walking alongside them. The guards waved them through rather quickly once Merdon threatened another man who questioned the kobolds he kept.

“There was a huge break out an hour ago,” the man said, backing off. “I'm just doing my job.”

“Then bother someone else,” Merdon growled, his helmet off and face angry. “It's already bad enough traveling the mountain at night. The kobolds are mine, not some runaways.”

Sarel pat his armored back once they were out into the darkness, the path lit only by the full moon above them. “That was good, verakt,” she whispered to him.

“We need somewhere to hide,” he replied, looking over at Skyeyes and Red, remounted on the wolf. “The guard will know soon enough, and we don't want to be anywhere near Ardmach when they start looking.”

Red sighed and asked, “How will they know it was you?”

Merdon leaned back in his saddle and shook his head. “The guards take stock of everyone who comes in, and the slavers know what you two look like. They'll compare everyone who came in, including kobolds, kobolds that were captured, and then ones that left.” Which would point them straight to Merdon.

Skyeyes glanced behind them with a terrified expression. “Perhaps we should pick up the pace then?”

“If it were brighter,” Merdon complained.

Red rose to the occasion, extending her claw with a fireball on it and lighting the area.

Quickclaw looked and grinned, “A good canter, perhaps, in this light.”

The knight nodded in agreement and spurred his horse on silently, with Skyeyes doing the same to his wolf, with his mind instead of his legs. Those two leading gave ample light ahead, and the group reached the bottom of the mountain before sunrise. That wasn't the end of their running, however, as the moment they reached flat lands Merdon urged his mount into a run. They needed space and time. Space to make time, time to plan their next move as nothing was going according to plan anymore. As well, they needed time to recover and regroup.