All five groups have now entered my demesne.

The words echoed in Robin’s head as he crouched, hidden, in one of the intact structures near to the group he was monitoring. Five party members, five groups, so each of them were on their own and nearby in case Ruprecht needed a pair of hands to help herd the hobgoblins.

Robin tried not to think too much about what an incredibly dangerous thing it was to split the party in this way.

So far, things had gone mostly according to plan with Robin’s group, though they were being far more cautious than he had expected. Ruprecht’s traps had peeled off several scouts already, though, so perhaps that was the reason. They were being more cautious with the ones they had remaining.

Come on, he silently willed the group, come further in. The party didn’t have all day, and the longer this drew out the more likelihood something would go wrong. Ruprecht had some truly terrible massive pit traps prepared. If they timed things right this could end up a massacre. Then they’d have the energy they needed to delve deeper into Tarin-Tiran.

Personally, Robin was also hoping that this would be the end of Gis as well. Not that he’d been that lucky since arriving in this world.

Robin used [Visual Phantasm] to conjure flickers of movement at random in the various alleyways and boulevards. It was difficult to herd a group this size, when they were being this cautious, but he needed to keep them moving, at least, and focused on more than simply looking for traps.

Is there any way you can easily steal the speaking stone their leader has?

Ruprecht sounded annoyed, his ire echoing off the vaults of Robin’s mind. The dungeon’s voice had that particular timbre that the bard had come to associate with one-to-one mindspeech.

No, Robin answered back. There’s too many of them. I might be able to distract them and send Rerebos in to try and steal it, but you’d need to promise him something very shiny indeed, I suspect.

There was a pause as the dungeon clearly communicated with the little dragon.

I suppose it’s not vital, the dungeon grumbled. But keep in mind that it may become so. They’re trading too much information about my traps. It’s making things far less efficient.

Robin sent a pulse of acknowledgement. Of course, there was more than one way to solve the problem. The group couldn’t report in if they were all dead.

How far to to killzone? He sent the thought winging to Rerebos, who was keeping watch from above.

Close. Well, close enough if they stop lazing about.

Robin needed to shift them into higher gear. But what could he use as bait or lash that would actually shift this many hobgoblins? Unless…

Rerebos, I think we’re going to need to steal that communications stone. Ruprecht, can you make me a replica that looks the same but doesn’t have any magic powers?

There stone near his feet rippled slightly and the requested replica rose up, coming to rest near his big toe. Robin leaned down and picked it up, mentally sending it into his dimensional storage space.

Now, what was the easiest way to get close to the leader? Stealth was an option, sure, but a lot of the hobgoblins would be on high alert. Not great odds.

Well, why not be direct? There were messengers and scouts reporting in constantly, so why not be one of them? He could stage a bit of a disturbance just outside of their line of sight with his illusion powers, then take the form of a scout, one of the ones Ruprecht had already dispatched, just to be safe, and just walk up to his target. Then he’d have to rely on a bit of sleight of hand, but it seemed the quickest, best chance he’d get at things.

It would also put him in the right position to use [Lesser Phantasm] to send some fake orders through the stone and get the group moving exactly in the direction he needed them to.

Of course if anything went wrong he’d be trapped in the middle of a hundred hostile hobgoblins, but hey, what was life without a little risk?

Safer. Much safer. And life.

Robin sighed. The things he did for his party. And to advance his own goals, of course, but hey, the things he did for his party.

And how many parties could claim a dungeon as a member? That had to be some kind of first, right? Where was the title or perk from that?

He cocked an ear, but no ding announced a notification. Oh well. Worth a try.

Robin mentally reviewed the area. Ideally he wanted the group to head down the boulevard three streets over from his current position. Was it better to try and drive them away from it with something terrible like a trap, or down it with something terrible like the promise of the beast they thought they were hunting?

Why not both?

Robin sent Rerebos to flit over the the boulevard and fake up some tracks to follow while he quickly conferred with Ruprecht and set an obvious trap to spring in the alley. He shifted to the hobgoblin form he planned on using, complete with several lacerations and a good deal of dried blood.

When he was ready he set off a large boom and the illusion of a puff of dust from the alleyway he was in, waited several seconds, then stumbled out in his hobgoblin form. He coughed for effect and made his way to the group. Right before he came into sight he made sure to cast [Lesser Mindreading]. There had to be passwords.

There were, and his spell allowed him to pluck them right out of the perimeter guards’ minds. He made his way directly to the command structure to report.

Fortunately the scoutmaster wasn’t with this group. Nor was the general. One of Gis’s lackeys was, however, though the human stood out amongst the hobgoblins and was clearly being held at arms length, so to speak.

Robin approached, keeping his mind alert to any hint of suspicion wafting off the hobgoblin commanders or Gis’s party member. There was tension there, and resentment, but no suspicion.

So far, so good.

Robin made his report, slurring his words and keeping his eyes slightly unfocused. Hopefully any discrepancies in behaviour would be attributed to the obvious damage he had taken in ‘escaping’ from the traps.

The leader grunted and began debating troop movements with the other two hobgoblins in charge of this particular group. Gis’s henchman looked on contemptuously.

‘We should slow down, check for more traps,’ one of the leaders was saying.

‘No, we should press on,’ the other lieutenant said. ‘We’ve finally gotten a glimpse of the beast! If we can destroy it we’ll bring glory to Urkhan.’

Robin sincerely doubted it was Urkhan’s glory he was concerned with.

The leader, a grizzled hobgoblin well into her middle-age, looked unconvinced by either side. She drummed her fingers along hte speaking stone at her side.

Robin watched carefully through half-lidded eyes. It was going to be hard to lift if she kept touching it like that.

‘It’s a pleasure to see such decisive leadership in action,’ Gis’s party-member sneered.

Wow. Guy was brave. The only human in the middle of a hundred hobgoblins and he was insulting their leader? Robin quickly reassessed how much pull Gis must have in this situation. What was the priest looking for in Tarin-Tiran?

Whatever it was, Robin could at least whittle down his support system by eliminating as many hobgoblins as possible. His eyes narrowed. And maybe he could even get Gis’s pet to help him do it.

‘So you think we should avoid the beast, go slow, track down the traps,’ Robin said, firmly putting words into the human’s mouth.

‘I—’ the man opened his mouth to reply.

‘You think hobgoblins lack bravery? that we can’t handle the beast? Is that what you think?’ Robin wasn’t going to let him say anything. No. This was his confrontation to control.

He stepped in front o the man, really got in his face, making sure the hob leader was right behind him.

‘You insult our leaders! What makes you think you’re so great?’ Robin reached out a claw and poked the man stiffly in the shoulder.

The man reacted exactly as Robin hoped, shoving him back. Robin took the cue and used hte momentum to stumble directly into the hobgoblin leader. He twisted as he fell, and as she reached out arms to catch him, made the switch between her speaking stone and the fake Ruprecht had conjured up.

‘Enough!’ The leader barked out as she righted Robin and gestured for the lieutenants to sheathe their weapons. ‘We are all united in the service of Urkhan! There is action enough for all.’

Robin flexed his fingers and used [Lesser Phantasm] to make the stone speak.

If any scouts report a sighting of the beast, pursue! It’s been wounded and should be weak. After it with all haste!

Robin hid a smile of satisfaction as that little nudge did it. The group was ordered down the boulevard, full speed ahead. He tagged along as long as he dared, making sure to reinforce their speed with whatever illusions he could muster, keeping a bit of conversation going htrough the speaking stone, for example.

When they were close to Ruprecht’s massive pitfall trap, he let himself fade further into the background until he had the chance to slip into an alleyway and cover his escape with a shroud of illusory shadow.

Then he just had to wait. It wasn’t long. There was a loud thump as a large section of boulevard vanished, accompanied by several dozen screams which all cut off quite suddenly.

There was a pleased rumble from the building around him and suddenly Ruprecht was all but singing through the vaults of Robin’s mind.

Ah! Excellent. That will help. The other four groups are proving much harder to herd than this one.

Robin had a quick conversation with the dungeon. Things were not going well. Gis was sniffing out several of the dungeon’s traps, and the other mega-patrols were all being led by more reliable and knowledgeable hobgoblins.

I’m not sure we’ll be able to get them all like you did this group.

Nothing for it then,’ Robin grimaced. ‘I think we’re going to have to try and trigger a wild magic surge amongst the mages.’