We had finished our first pot of unexpectedly fine tea when Harper strolled up, burlap bag in hand. “Sorry that took so long. I wanted to make sure I had conclusive proof for our friend.”

  We met the gnome back at the Nugget and Nail, and watched him cry over the evidence collected from the collapsed mine. He folded up the letter that was in the sack and placed it away from himself. It took some time for him to calm down and talk to us.

  “This is much more than I expected. You cannot imagine how good it is to know I was right. Now, I can save the mine from those monsters that want to turn it into a resort or whatever nonsense the Barron and his friends are planning,” Marken said.

  “I’m glad we could help, Master Marken. Now, as to our reward?” asked Jerseil.

  “Yes, of course! The caverns,” he said, and slipped the evidence carefully back into the burlap sack. “So. Most people know only about the entrance through the mines. It’s safer, yes, but no longer useful. Years ago, when we first found the caverns by accident, those of us that were young and foolish enough to enter did a little exploring.”

  “We were attacked,” the old gnome said, rubbing his temples and looking at the table top. “I was separated from the rest of the group. I lost my lamp and pack in the tussle and found myself with nothing. After 3 days of wandering in the dark, I found a spot with a light breeze and the smell of trees and grass. I followed my nose to an entrance, having to sneak past camps of kobolds and mole people. The smell of food from the kobold camps was maddening, but for the first time in my life I wanted nothing more than to be above ground.”

  He stopped for a moment and drank a full glass of wine. There was a look of regret on his face. “I survived when none of the others did. You’ll find the entrance outside of town to the southeast, in a rocky hill—a small opening.” Marken cleared his throat. “Thank you again for your help. Please excuse me.”

  As the old gnome walked over to the bar with his burlap sack, the Voice decided to grace us with its presence once more.

  ‘Quest Objective complete! For some reason, the companions of Finn the Mage allowed him to speak. Next time, I’d suggest using a gag. Maybe a muzzle. Nonetheless, Finn’s ignorance did not prevent the completion of this objective. Thanks to the expert work of the Rogue Infiltrator, Harper, the new owners of the Mine have been implicated in the mine collapse which left half the town of Mining Camp unemployed. Do you know what happens when the miners don’t have work? Pure Chaos! They drink and brawl. Stuff gets broken. And they stink! They could bathe, but they’re just too drunk all the time! Things will turn around nicely now.

  I looked up angrily. “A gag? Are you serious?” I snapped.

  We reconvened up in the room Jerseil and I were ostensibly sharing. “Well, that got awkward there at the end with Marken,” I said, frowning. Looking at my map, I saw it updated with the location of the alternate entrance to the caverns.

  “Live long enough and sad, horrible things happen,” replied Jerseil. His tone was rather matter of fact, but I wondered at what had happened to him in the past.

  And I wasn’t the only one. Harper reached her arm around him and gave him a side hug in sympathy. He smiled sadly at her.

  “What all will we need to go down there? Lamps and stuff?” I asked. I was feeling like a third wheel, and I just had to interject something to avoid any further discomfort.

  “And maybe some rope, I would think,” Jerseil said.

  “Don’t forget the extra rations and water,” Harper added. She looked thoughtful. “Maybe some more knives. I’m getting low on good ones.”

  “Okay, so I think we have a plan. We’ll get the shopping done after breakfast, and then head out to the caverns?” I asked my two friends to keep them focused on our task. I knew it was a lost cause, but as long as we had some sort of strategy for the next day, they could go do whatever they wanted tonight.

  “That sounds good, Finn,” Harper said. She yawned and stood up. “I think going to bed would be an excellent addition to that. Jerseil?”

  “Yes, Harper?”

  “Are you coming?”

  “Of course I am. Good night, Finn!”

  The woods to the southeast of town were thick with overgrowth, revealing a lack of travel in the area. Deeper into the forest, ancient oaks and maples replaced the multiple faster-growing trees. At least I think they’re oaks and maples.

  Our path meandered all over the place to get through the undergrowth at first, but the towering ancient trees blocked much of the direct sunlight needed by much of the undergrowth, and it had thinned out. Mostly just creeping vines and low-light ground cover plants fought for every stray sunbeam.

  Jerseil had almost bought a donkey, one used to the mines, for our supplies. But Harper had gently reminded him that both she and I had significant inventory systems, allowing us to carry more than the usual person. We loaded up with the supplies, splitting the stack, Jerseil looking wistfully at the donkey.

  And then he wouldn’t shut up about it.

  “You know, we could have hung the lamps from the donkey. And if we found more gear and treasure than we could carry, well, the donkey could have carried it,” he said. For the tenth time.

  Harper turned on him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Jesus, Jerseil! Okay! You have made it very clear you wanted a donkey. I don’t really get it,” she said, putting up a hand to stop him talking, “but I don’t need to. Tell you what. Next time, we’ll get your fucking donkey.”

  He brightened as she turned away from him. “Really? I’ve always wanted one. We could name it Jeffrey. After one of my uncles. And Jeffrey could—” Jerseil went on excitedly.

  “God damn it, Jerseil!” interrupted Harper. “No more! I don’t want to hear anything, fucking anything else, about dealing with your future donkey. Please. Can we just walk in silence?” An exasperated Harper asked.

  A quiet, donkey-talk-free hour later, we reached the rocky hillock Marken directed us to. It pushed up through the forest, with small, stunted trees growing in the less rocky areas of it. Like a beacon, the sun shone brighter on the mound of dirt and rock. The small opening to the cavern was not visible from the direction we came from.

  “When he said it was small, he didn’t mean small for a gnome, right?” I asked, squinting around the base of the hill.

  “Hopefully not,” Jerseil replied, puffing out his chest. “I’m a little too big and muscular!”

  Harper snorted and walked toward the rocky hill. “Well, if that’s the case, you can just dig the entrance out bigger.”

  “Ouch,” he replied.

  I rooted through my backpack. “I think I have a burn salve in here somewhere, bud,” I said, trying not to snicker at the look of hurt pride on his face.

  “Hey!” Harper shouted. “The opening is over here. We are going to need to clear it.”

  Decades of tree and bush growth crisscrossed the opening, blocking our path. It was bigger than expected, but the top would brush my hair. “It looks like you get to use your big muscles, Jerseil,” I teased.

  “Yeah, okay,” he replied and pushed back his sleeves. “You’re helping, right?”

  The tunnel we entered started as a dry dirt and rock Jenga pile of anxiety. But farther in, the tunnel turned into a stone passage that widened out. It wasn’t too long before we had to take out our lamps, twists and turns taking us away from the light of day. I ran my hand over the walls, feeling the coldness of the stone and the moisture condensing on it.

  I had the sudden feeling of walking through one of those tunnels that went through aquariums, the feeling of all that weight above me. One crack, and that was it—watery death. Only here, it was solid stone, not water. I shook off the feeling and hoped that none of the passages ahead of us shrank. The walls are not closing in. I’m not claustrophobic. I’m not claustrophobic.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The cold air chilled further as the tunnel widened into a cavern. Our lamps did not reach out far enough to see the far walls or the ceiling. “It’s just like being outside on a moonless, cloudy night,” I said. While I thought, no, just keep telling yourself that, dude.

  This was not like the wolves’ den back in the starting area. We were much deeper than that. I had unlocked a new phobia, and my heart was beating like I had just run ten miles. “Uh, guys? I’m not doing so hot.”

  “Seriously? Finn, you have got to pull it together. This is a decent cavern. I’ve been in some caves where sections would collapse every few minutes! And Marken mentioned a kobold village. They would not live in a cavern that wasn’t stable,” Harper replied.

  “Unless they were insane. Or under the control of a dragon. Or a wizard,” Jerseil added cheerfully.

  “Jerseil, you aren’t helping! Chill your harsh,” Harper hissed.

  I was calmed by the idea that the presence of kobolds was a good sign of stability. Jerseil hadn’t thrown me off, as I was willing to bet Harper knew better. “Thanks, Harper. That helps.” The panic lessened but was still there. I tried not to focus on it, but at least it wasn’t getting worse. This wasn’t genuine anxiety, as far as I knew.

  Like this guy, Alex, that I used to lift with. He had good days and bad days, even on medication. He didn’t always answer the phone when his mental state was bad, and on those days, I let him deal with it. But on the bad days when he answered, I’d hang out with him and watch his favorite movies. And eat pizza. From the way he explained how it worked and what it did to him, I didn’t have full-blown anxiety. This was not good, but it likely would not be my norm. Not if I could be soothed so easily.

  I took a deep breath and started with the first step. “Come on, we’ve got a beast to find.”

  We had been walking for about twenty minutes when we came upon a sleeping creature. It was definitely humanoid, but about four feet tall. Its pronounced snout was open as it snored, and its ears were wide and bat-like, and the damned thing reminded me of a lizard-dingo hybrid. The dirty, brownish-red scales that covered its body reflected some of the light, and they prompted a partial memory of something big with lots of teeth.

  “What is that?” I whispered, not wanting to rouse it.

  “That, my friend, is a kobold. An adult one at that, likely to be a cast-out,” Jerseil replied at the same decibel level.

  This is a kobold? I thought. At least it’s too small to be a threat. “Should we leave it be or tie it up?” I asked.

  “If its tribe has thrown it out, then we don’t need to worry about it. It might be helpful to talk with it,” Harper said.

  The creature chose that moment to wake up. It opened its eyes and looked at us with some trepidation. “You no kill, yes? Not want to eat me, no. Taste bad!” it said.

  Harper kneeled and put her hands out, palms open. “We don’t want to hurt you. We are new here and hope to get some information.”

  The creature sat up, its ears going from drooping to out and up. “Information? What looking for? Me good information, bad for eating. Maybe… Trade? Yes?” the kobold replied.

  “What’s your name?” Harper asked gently.

  “Druzzik. Trade now? Food?” the kobold answered hopefully.

  Harper smiled and pulled out a travel biscuit and handed it over. Druzzik looked at it curiously, like the kobold had never seen one, before taking a tentative bite. The kobold looked as if they were at a wine tasting. Druzzik’s eyes widened and then gobbled the biscuit like it was ambrosia.

  “More information, more food trade?” Druzzik asked.

  It was so innocent and amusing that we all except for the slightly confused Kobold laughed. Harper pulled another biscuit into her hand. “Of course, Druzzik. Can you tell us why you are out here all alone?”

  The kobold nodded eagerly, reaching for the biscuit. “Yes, yes! Easy trade. Druzzik on quest! Important quest. Me not allowed back until Quest complete,” Druzzik said proudly, sticking its chest out. “Druzzik adventurer. Druzzik last adherent of Great Dragon.”

  “An adventurer? Druzzik, we are adventurers too. Perhaps we can help each other,” Harper said. She handed the kobold the biscuit, which was immediately consumed. The kobold had obviously not eaten for a while.

  “What was that about a dragon?” I asked.

  Druzzik looked up at me expectantly, and didn’t answer until I handed him one of my travel biscuits. “Yes. She missing,” the kobold said sadly. “No Great Dragon, no purpose. Tribe disagreed. Tribe charged me with finding Great Dragon. Or no comeback. Druzzik exiled. Called Heretic.”

  The little kobold only looked dejected for a moment. “Druzzik skilled warrior. Will complete quest. Have purpose to find purpose! Triumphant return! Get wife!”

  “By the Twins,” said Jerseil quietly. “This little guy thinks he can find a dragon. No one has seen one for centuries.”

  Druzzik leaped to his feet, a stick in hand. One end of which was thick and bulbous, reminding me of a shillelagh. My family had one that had been passed down for generations. Despite the tumultuous move to America by my great-great-grandparents, it had made it all the way from Ireland.

  “Green demon man wrong. Great Dragon live in caves for long time, watched and guided tribes. Kobolds protect Great Dragon and Clutch. Bring her food. Sing to Great Dragon,” he said, shaking his shillelagh at Jerseil angrily.

  “Hold on, Druzzik. Outside of here, no one has seen any dragons for centuries. If there was a dragon here, then no one knew. I’m sorry if I offended you.” Jerseil said.

  The kobold seemed mollified. “Druzzik not lie. Druzzik remembers stories. Parents told Druzzik. Told of her beauty. She protected tribes. Loved tribes,” he said. “Then She gone.”

  Harper put a hand up. “Druzzik, what about the tribes? Will they take issue with us?” She handed the kobold another biscuit. This time, he carefully folded a piece of cloth around it and placed it in what appeared to be a knapsack that he had used as a pillow. Druzzik then sat, getting comfortable

  “Druzzik tribe, no. Druzzik tribe adopt new ways. Other tribes, yes. Not like outsiders. Kill outsiders. And Mole People. Mole People bad.”

  “Okay. So it’s going to be a fight, no matter what. Thank you Druzzik. You’ve been really helpful.”

  Druzzik nodded, pleased with the feedback. As Harper stood up, he stood up, too, realizing that we were leaving. “Wait! Druzzik has more to trade! Druzzik adventurer, too! Maybe travel with you? Me excellent guide! Perhaps finish quests together?” he asked hopefully

  Damn it, he has a point. A guide would be useful, I thought. “I would be good with it if you two are,” I said to Harper and Jerseil.

  Jerseil, not convinced, shook his head slightly while Harper looked thoughtfully at the kobold.

  “We could use a guide. It’s going to be dangerous either way, yet maybe less so with someone who is local,” she decided.

  With a sigh, Jerseil pulled out his instrument and strummed a few chords. Druzzik made an excited, appreciative noise of delight. Jerseil, still strumming, looked at the kobold. “All right, Druzzik. Just got a couple of questions for you. How long have you been on this quest of yours? And how long ago were you kicked out of your tribe?”

  The grinning kobold was bouncing on the balls of his feet to the music. “Druzzik has wanted to find Great Dragon for long time. Druzzik talked about. Me had several talkings to. Then Druzzik kicked out and told no return until find Great Dragon. Maybe two weeks? Me thinks two weeks.”

  Jerseil shrugged his shoulders, putting his guitar-like instrument away. “He’s telling the truth. Never traveled with a kobold before, but he’s more honest than a lot of non-kobolds I’ve met over the years.”

  “Green demon man, play more?” Druzzik asked, excitement filling him.

  “Not right now. And it’s Jerseil, not green demon man,” he replied.

  The little kobold led us towards his village. The village that had kicked him out and given him an impossible task. According to Druzzik, the only way forward was through the village. The village lay at the other end of this cavern, where it shrank to the size of a large tunnel. That tunnel led to the next series of caverns, where there were multiple branching tunnels.

  I was unsure if his tribe would allow him, let alone us, through their village. If they did without harming us or our new guide, it would be a blessing. Since meeting the little guy, I took an instant liking to him and would hate to kill kobolds. I may not have a choice. Especially past Druzzik’s tribe.

  It didn’t take long to find out, though. The approach to the village was well lit, and two lightly armored kobold guards awaited our approach with weapons ready.

  “Halt! No closer. Why with Heretic?” asked the guard on the left of the gate.

  “Me guiding adventurers! Not coming home yet. Help adventurers. Adventures help me find Great Dragon!” replied our guide, all business.

  “Heretic no speak!” shouted the one on the right. They looked to us. “Is true? Heretic Guide, no trick?”

  “Yes, Druzzik is guiding us deeper into the cave system. May we be allowed to pass through with him? We mean you no harm,” Harper stated. Her hands were out in front of her, palms out.

  The two guards looked at each other, apparently unsure. The one on the left grabbed a horn off his belt and gave it a tootle. Soon another kobold guard came out of the gate, looked at us, and had a quiet conversation with the guards. This one had nicer armor, probably signifying a higher rank.

  The higher-ranked guard approached us without fear. “What reason in caves, strangers?” he said in a deep contralto.

  “We are here on a quest to find a beast per the request of the Voice,” I said without hesitation. “Nothing more. If we can avoid killing anyone while doing so, I would count that as a victory.”

  “Kobolds are people? Not monsters?” he asked, looking at me strangely, narrowing his eyes.

  “Yes,” I replied slowly, confused. “How could you not be?”

  The kobold smiled. “Strangers may pass! No, not strangers. Friends! And Heretic.” He grabbed my hand, shaking it and pulling me toward the gate, where he gave all of us except Druzzik, colorful necklaces of beads. “Friends get passes. Walk safe through village. Tribe accept you when back!”

  The village itself wasn’t too advanced at first glance, with simple structures only slightly better than huts, but they were very well made and inlaid with colorful and uniquely shaped rocks. The lack of easy building materials in the caves meant a utilitarian design. It was clean, and the tribe waved to us when they saw the beads around our necks. Though some of them gave pointed looks at our guide, who pretended not to notice. A kobold guard ran past us, deeper into the village.

  An older kobold stopped us before the gate leading to the rest of the cave system. He wore what I could only assume was a crown made of metal, stone, and wood. Colorful feathers that could only have come from the surface adorned the top of the crown.

  “New friends. Heretic,” he said solemnly.

  “Uncle,” replied our guide, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

  “Help Heretic, careful other tribes. Hostile. Don’t trust. Not living new way,” he said. “Come back, we feast!” Then, the old kobold turned his back on us and walked away.