Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

The dwarves and the big guy were awake and it was time to press on. I held my newly acquired wand out in front of me and lit up the tip with a spell. I moved to the tunnel mouth and peered into the gloomy passage. Whoever built this dungeon was not out to encourage wandering about so I had a good look about for traps before moving forward.

The tunnel is steep enough that you cannot see the bottom, but everything that's visible appears to be clear of any hazards.

Seeing that the tunnel was apparently clear of traps, I edged down it, wand in hand, hoping that I would see whoever might be at the end of it before they saw me.

Bob edges down the narrow tunnel, alert for any danger. After a minute or two of crawling, the sloping tunnel opens suddenly into a sheer drop. Hesitating at the edge, Bob looks down to see the face of a kobold looking up at him.

The kobold is bent and withered with age; a rare commodity for its kind. It looks Bob over with a critical eye, then dons tiny spectacles from a pocket in a tattered cloak and speaks in a slow and unaccented Common.

"We have been watching you and your friends, Manslayer. We have no wish to fight you. I have talked with the others and I think we may have some common goals. Come down, and we will see the chieftain about—"

In the distance, a loud THUMP. Then again, and again, as the sound of splintering wood starts to accompany it.

A younger kobold appears next to the elder. The kobolds exchange a few alarmed remarks in their barking tongue, and the cloaked kobold's tiny fists clench. He looks back up at Bob.

"I must go to aid in the defense of the gates. We will tell you of our proposition afterward, should I survive."

He hurries off, and Bob is left staring down at the mound of dirt below.

"LOOK OWT BEELOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW"

Argumentus comes sliding down the hole, sailing down a slip'n slide of rotting entrails.

The poor Kobolds were in trouble and it was up to us to save them! Anyway, I thought to myself, what's the worst that could possibly be down there?

"Come my minions!" I yelled, "To arms, let us give our aid to these noble creatures...". My rallying cry was cut short by the large, slithering mass sliding past me, narrowly avoiding knocking me into the hole. "Er, that's the spirit" I muttered, lowering myself gingerly over the edge of the hole before dropping to the bottom, rolling when I landed to absorb the impact and coming to my feet in one smooth motion, wand outstretch ready to deal icy death to anyone or anything looking the least bit beligerent.

Argumentus and the elf tumble out of the tunnel and into the kobold warren, their fall broken by a pile of loose earth just beneath. Beyond the open doorway, kobolds with spears and slings scramble back and forth in the hall.

With one great and final splintering, the rhythmic thumps cease, giving way to the unmistakable sounds of a pitched battle being gradually driven in the party's direction.

M

Argumentus's nose flares at the sounds of battle. He moves to the passageway in order to look down the hall.

Not wanting to be last, Motsognir leaps down the tunnel after Argumentus.

I followed the others in the direction of the sound of fighting, peeking round the corner to see what was going on.

Motsognir slips down the tunnel, while Argumentus charges into the corridor with Bob at his heels. Kobolds of all ages are hurrying to and fro, but the halls are wide enough that you do not obstruct them (or they you).

Treat the kobolds as friendly; you can move through spaces they occupy.

The corridor splits east and west, though both routes turn toward the north again.

M

"Right, this calls for a tactical approach. You, the big guy, go that way, stumpy, you take the other corridor. I'll, er, stand behind you, I can fire spells just fine over your head." I shouted, attempting to marshall my troops. The Kobolds milling around were confusing me somewhat and we still had yet to find out what we were fighting.

I moved to the east, peering around the corner to the north.

Argumentus was confused about what way "that way" be. Since Bob was already rounding the corner, Argumentus addresses the nearby kobold.

"Hey doggy, where the fight?"

The dwarf was roused by the sounds of battle. Once again Kord had called his number. And that number was not one, nor two, nor four. Five... was right out. In any case, he came bolting down the hall, his beard bouncing, throwing hammer in hand as he came skittering towards the sounds of battle. Taking quick stock he noted small kobold friend, whatever was making that commotion was probably an enemy. War it was.

Good. Goooood. Kord would not want his valor to come so easy.

Bob steps around the east corner. This hall leads directly into an open room where a heavily-muscled kobold is hammering away at an anvil. A charcoal brazier nearly as large as the kobold lies just behind him, and a dry heat pours from the room.

A few feet ahead of Bob, the corridor also branches off to the east. A nervous-looking kobold with a spear and a keyring stands in the intersection, glancing down the east corridor every few seconds.

The blacksmith and the guard appear to be the only residents not fleeing northward toward the ruckus. The halls are beginning to empty, and a peculiar flapping sound joins the overall clamor.

Argumentus accosts a passing kobold and inquires about finding the battle. The little creature looks terrified of the huge fighter and gesticulates wildly, pointing in several directions in succession; west, then east, north, then east again. The he flees.

I made a series of hand gestures designed to convey to the horde that they should fan out in front of me in the classic "Defend our glorious leader" formation. After a few moments of nothing happening, I glanced over my shoulder to see what they were doing. The sight of nobody there lessened my bravado somewhat and I shrunk back against the wall of the corridor. What was I doing? There was clearly some huge battle in progress and here I was charging to join it as if I was the mighty Celtic warrior and songsmith, Ronan the Barbarian.

I considered allowing discretion once again to triumph over valour but my curiosity once again got the better of me and I edged forward to where the Kobold stood in front of me to get a decent look into the open area ahead. Perhaps if I exercised the same caution sound every corner the battle would be over before I bumped into it...

Bob steps into the intersection with the nervous kobold. To the north lies the busy blacksmith, banging away on a battle-axe much too large for his size. To the east is a brief corridor leading to an iron-barred gate. Behind the bars, a hulking lizardman stomps about in a crude prison cell.

The reptilian man-monster is easily twice as big as Argumentus in the midst of a crab binge, and seems more than capable of tearing any of the kobolds in half.

"Stay away from the prisoner!" barks the guard. "Very dangerous!" He takes a step toward the gate, protectively.

The smithy is scattered with the blacksmith's tools of trade, and half-finished weapons lie here and there. He finishes hammering on the axe blade, and places it in a nearby bucket with a set of tongs. He wipes his brow and looks up from his work, noticing Bob at last.

"You there, tall and useless. If you're not going to kill anything, at least take some gear to the gates." He sizes Bob up and sighs, then grabs a finished axe from a bench and dumps it into Bob's arms. The wooden axe handle is inscribed with many tiny runes, and the weapon feels much lighter than it rightfully should be.

"I'm sure you can find somebody to take it off your hands. Now get out of my sight, I've got a work order a mile long."

The smith turns back to his work, once again ignoring Bob.

M

Argumentus knew which way the first was, rounding the western corner and entering the room.

Never one to ignore the advice of a small, scaly creature, I kept myself well clear of the massive lizard. The blacksmith handed me an axe, thinking me perhaps unarmed at present. I was never a big fan of axe fighting, it's generally a messy affair given the difficulty of using the things to block but I held on to it, imagining that the giant human or one of the dwarves might find a use for it. It was surprisingly light so did not really encumber me.

I continued moving cautiously to the north, my desire to help out these little creatures tempered somewhat by the lack of any meaningful backup as yet and a nagging feeling that there was more going on here than initially met the eyes. The calm demeanour of the blacksmith made me suspicious and never let it be said that an elf rushed into a situation unprepared for the worst.

Taking the west fork down a brief corridor, Argumentus finds himself in a makeshift kitchen. Half-finished meals lie where the embattled kobolds abandoned them, and a roast... something is still suspended on a cooking spit over a fire. Unattended, the roast beast has begun to blacken badly on its underside. The smell of meat, unfortunately, attracts other visitors.

Three leathery creatures with multiple wings and elongated probosces flap into the room, resemblant of some foul