Drix emerged from the passage. His breath was silenced and his presence was thin. It was a short passage. No spikes or teeth marked its surface. Well travelled and did not require any stretching or bending. Far more pleasant than the very beginning.
He channeled his thoughts into strategies and plans to kill more goblins. Taking his mind off the poor communication between him and the group. He would slice the next goblin, he decided.
More light up ahead. Shadows joined in with the light like a loud neighbor, announcing the presence of the goblins nearby. The shadows jumbled together in a mess, hiding the true numbers.
Drix raised his visor and turned the corner. He did it confidently. The goblins around the corner were not as numerous as the enterance. Three of them, lounging in different ways against a wooden door in a frame connected to a stone brick wall. The contrast of the excellently made wall and the rough irregular passage wall was stark.
The three goblins were outfitted nicely, each had chain shirts and weapons without rust. Their torso was also padded with a thick shirt. For their legs, they all opted to wear leather greaves, which covered their thighs and shins. If Drix wanted a single strike to end their lives, he would need to aim for the throat or skull. His weapons in their current state could not pierce the chain shirt they wore.
They noticed him, as planned. Each of the three were confused at his sight, not recognising his helmet and armor. They looked at each other, and one of the three left through the door, closing it behind him.
Drix spoke up before anything could arise, "The whelps in the last cavern told me to come here to join the group, after I bashed the purple one's face in." he said, hoping these three were the same as every other goblin, more than welcoming to have the strong join them.
The remaining two nodded, a smirk on their tattooed faces, "Go in and talk to the red, he will sort you out just fine."
They opened the door for Drix, motioning him inside. Prepping himself to slice their throats just in case, he calmly walked toward the door. The two did not move.
The room ahead was lit up with more fires. Vents dotted the ceilings, preventing suffocation. The light revealed more stone brick features, the floor was carved like stone tiles. Earth above Drix's head curved up into a roof, with supports and architecture fit for a building outside.
Stone pews were in two columns leading down the rectangular room like a church. They formed four rows, before ending at a raised circular platform. It was five meters in diameter and had large carvings on it. Stone vases that stunk of lantern oil stood in a stockpile at the far left corner. One was opened, used by the goblins to fuel the two torches on the far wall.
The far less pretty decorations of the room were the goblins, twenty of them. Various sizes, mostly the normal green varient he was used to. Alarmingly, more goblins the size and colour of the slightly purple one were present. It explained their status as the biggest group this side of the mountain, but a gathering this large was ill news. The purple skin they had was deeper in colour than the one Drix killed, farther away from a shade of grey.
The other two fires in the room seemed for cooking, and goblins sat and stood around them aimlessly. Many were staring at Drix, not recognising him.
"So, another demi-hobgoblin has been sent to us, what kind of message do you bring kinsman?" A deep voice pushed through the silence, erupting from a large figure at the end of the room.
A large hobgoblin stood atop the center platform, looking down at Drix. Its skin was dark red, closer to mahogany. The armor it wore was a quality above the rest. A breastplate, made of black metal that didnt seem to reflect the light of the flames. Its many pieces and parts seemed to interlock in a silent way, as it did not make noise when the hobgoblin moved. A single detail lay in the middle, where the sternum was, a spider. Other than the breatplate, he wore a padded gambeson underneath, nearly identical to Drix's gambeson. His was black though, and had gloves and hard leather boots that matched.
Improvising, Drix responded with the details he was just generously given, "I bring a request, our marching party needs some oil to aid us in burning the nearby town to the ground."
The hobgoblin looked interested, stepping toward Drix. He stopped a few paces in front of him. Getting a closer look at each other, they were both silently suprised.
Drix kept his thoughts to himself, but the hobgoblin voiced them, "Ah, well you are certainly taller than I thought. And look at that, you even have a little bit of red shining through that purple." the hobgoblin looked more satisfied with a closer look.
Drix only nodded in response, his gear felt tighter than when he entered the cave system. If the hobgoblin was of average height for its race, Drix would probably place around a slightly shorter than average human. That said, Drix was still inches below this hobgoblin. Next, he glanced at his wrist. The skin was more exposed than he wished it to be, hopefully it didnt enter Maximon's vision, else it would have certainly been noticed. Perhaps his conversation with Umber in their secret language had actually done some good and distracted him.
The hob interupted his thoughts, "Oil is stored over there, we have plenty, came with the place." he pointed over his shoulder at the vases in the corner.
Nodding at him, Drix walked around him and toward the oil.
"Oh yeah, why didn't we get word of a war party stealing the town we were tasked with?" the hob asked behind him, things like sarcasim, doubt, and sass dripped from his voice.
Drix didnt falter, continuing toward the vases. He heard shuffling from behind him. It was the hobgoblin's boots moving across the stone floor. The other goblins moved too, chainmail and leather on cloth, weapons unsheathing.
He needed to stall, "You simply took far too long, and our plans need to be accelerated, heroes are on their way from the north.
It worked, the shuffling stopped. For a second, that is.
"Right, of course, we understand perfectly."
Drix lunged at the vases, grabbing a wooden ladle nearby. He heard the hobgoblin lunge too.
He dunked the ladle into the vase, and twisted his body as quickly as possible without spilling the contents. Drix splashed the oil over the body of the hob, watching as he pulled back a brutal looking morningstar.
He was struck in the side. The blunt force and and piercing spikes crashed right through his leather armor and snapped his ribs. Drix fell back, stumbling into the vases and knocking them over. Oil poured out, coating the floor nearby and quickly spreading.
"Put out those fires!" the hobgoblin yelled, pointing at his men near the cooking pots.
They stomped them out, panicked. It was almost disaster, but nothing caught a light. The oil covered the ground, leaving nothing but the raised platform and the eight pews in an inch high bath of black. They all sighed in relief.
Splash.
Oil hit against the back of the hobgoblin. He turned back in time to see Drix throw the torch in his hand. It struck the ground. Everything lit up.
From atop a standing and empty vase, Drix watched as the room burst into terror. Flames covered the ground, and goblins shrieked in pain. Many tried to run, but they couldnt outrun the spread. They were all overtaken by the fire, their clothing and leather ignited. The wiser few tried to run to the raised platform, but only kicked droplets of liquid fire into the eyes and faces of their companions.
Only two made it to the platform. Drix leaped from the vase he stood on, crossing the two meter gap with the help of the added height. He thought he was alone, the feeling of euphoria in his chest was proof enough that he had killed a dozen already.
A large body of flame stepped on the platform with him. Fire covered his legs, and it shot a line up to his face. A large part of the back was also burning.
It was a frightening sight. Especially for the morningstar covered in flaming oil.
It charged, screaming. Its voice was broken, likely never to recover. Strength of rage and adrenaline filled its arms with strength as it raised the morningstar above its head.
Drix didnt even think about contesting the dying hob in combat. He evaded the blow before it got close, jumping from the raised platform onto the nearest stone pew. The flame bit at his heels but it was worth the price of survival.
The hobgoblin stared at him from the platform. His eyes lost all emotion. Only hate remained.
Drix watched, worried about what sort of monster he created. Preparing to jump backward onto the next pew in case it decided to make a last ditch attempt to kill him.
The scorching hob turned around. He walked to the other side of the platform. Lifting his morningstar, he pushed in a false stone on the wall. Sounds of chafing rock erupted in the room, and a segment of wall slid into itself. The hob walked through a meter of burning oil and left through the passage.
Oil left with him, flowing into the new room. It slowly drained and left Drix in a hot room with burnt corpses. Some oil still covered the ground, leaving patches of burning hazards. The wooden door he entered through was still burning, giving a trail of smoke that led into one of the rooms vents.
It opened, revealing a group of four adventurers. Two corpses lay behind them, stripped of their leather greaves and chain shirts. Drix lowered his visor and applied pressure to his wound.
"Time to have some fun!" Maximon said from behind the group, raising his hands above his shoulders.
When the party infront did not move, "Fun? Guys? Did the kid leave some for us?" his voice was covered with dissapointment, but he seemed happy in truth.
Madove walked inside, leading the way onto the nearest pew. She took in everything around her with raised eyebrows. Her nose was forced shut by her hand, unwilling to take in the smell of charred goblin flesh. Drix could have sworn he even saw a smile hidden under her small hand.
Zenoda seemed weary, stumbling across the pews with her eyes half shut and nose clenched. Umber supported her, helping her across. Green magic radiated from her hands, and the air moved in a calm gust. The stench dissipated, and the scent of lavender replaced it.
The dissapointed bard skipped across the pews, looking at the goblins and making a show out of counting with his fingers. When he landed on the raised circular platform, he looked at Drix.
"Heck yeah, good job kid. You might pay off that debt sooner rather than later with this pace." he said, looking around the room.
Drix couldnt help but raise his brows behind his visor, moving to the circular platform and approaching the bard, "Havent I paid it off already? I have probably killed enough goblins to buy a magic sword, yet you say I haven't paid off two-ish gold coins of debt?" he claimed, bluffing his knowledge on their currency.
To his delight, Maximon nodded, "That is true," he paused, "but you also destroyed their gear and the materials we sell to alchemists and mages. Other than the quest, we have not made any money."
Drix sighed, supposing the destroyed items was his own doing, "What about the quest then, surely my cut is big enough to pay it off."
Maximon put his hand to his chin, but Drix knew it was just theatrics, "Um, lets see, well I suppose so. Do you have your adventurers token to claim a cut?" he asked, smiling at Drix.
The goblin lied, "Of course I do, and when we get to town ill show it to you and get my proper cut." he said, hoping he would be able to obtain one before the group could cash in. After his debt was paid, he could join them again debtless, or find a more sane group to join.
"Alright," Maximon responded, "though you should probably get that wound healed by Madove. It will cost you a little bit, but a healthy body is worth the price."
Figuring the price would be covered by his cut, he nodded. Flinching as a boot immediately dug into his thigh. He recoiled at the pain, but it dissapeared fast. The wetness of warm blood remained on his hand, but the throbbing of the wound and the pain of breathing trickled away. All that was left was the pain of his wealth, as a larger part of his cut dissapeared instantly.
"Seems like we can continue onward then. Since this whole deal got a little more serious, lets stick together from now on." Maximon said, pointing at the room around him. Drix agreed with the statement, the building was obviously not made by any goblin hands.
Something was said in common. Attracting the attention of the group to the carving on the floor. They all stepped back, and Drix followed suit.
The carving was a very complex looking spider, identical to the one on the hobgoblins breastplate. Remembering their absence, Drix told Maximon the details before he killed everything in the room, explaining what had been said. He left out the suspicious details, claiming he let them take him in as a prisoner. When they discussed what the hobgoblin said about messengers and attacking the nearby town, Maximon seemed aware of it already. Then, everything from the matching breastplate symbol to the hob leaving out the once secret passage was news to him.
Maximon nodded, putting up his hand to Drix, motioning to wait. He gathered the group, talking with them for a short time. Everybody had something to say or suggest. Maximon said a sentence after a short second of silence and they all raised their hands like a vote.
The bard turned back to Drix, "We voted on following the hobgoblin and getting further involved. Do you want to join us?" he let Drix think for a moment.
"Only after telling me everything you already know first." Drix responded.
Maximon retorted with a smile, "Alrighty, so both of us have some secrets to spill. Let talk outside, its a little hot in here."
Drix agreed with that. The corpses and heat would help prevent anything occupying it in the future. Time to get some fresh air.