Robin bit his cheek to keep from swearing as the hobgoblin warrior chased after Drev and around a corner.
Right out of Robin’s line of sight.
The band had hit the party mere moments after Rerebos’s warning. Robin had had just enough time to pass it, along with a shout of alarm, before they were hip deep in melee.
It was only a small warband, five to five. It shouldn’t have been much trouble, but the hobgoblins clearly had the home turf advantage. They knew the terrain and how to take full advantage of it.
That left Robin’s party struggling, for all they had not been caught completely unawares.
Robin shot a glance after Drev but decided not to leave his hiding spot. Drev was a defensive mage of a high calibre. He’d probably be alright. Just in case, however, Robin sent a mental command to Rerebos to spy out the situation and report back.
Then he turned his attention to the battle.
Enough of the nearby buildings had fallen to the strangely inconsistent decay that, though this was technically a crossroads, it was more like a small, litter-choked town square. Robin could see Savra behind Vance, squaring off against an absolute monster of a hob and a twisted wretch of a specimen that kept trying to flank him. There was one hobgoblin corpse already on the ground. Jhess had disappeared chasing another. They didn’t want anyone getting away to bring in reinforcements.
Robin kept a close eye on the battle, looking for an opening.
Vance was magnificent in gleaming white armour. Paper, of all things, but as hard as steel. He had a sword to match, and both hobs still standing were bleeding from several very fine cuts.
Savra murmured a prayer, and light flared around Vance, who immediately began to move with greater ease and vigour.
‘Get the healer, you fool,’ the larger of the two hobs snarled.
[Tongue of the Fallen Tower] allowed Robin to catch the meaning. He didn’t think either Savra or Vance spoke the language, though perhaps he ought not make that assumption about the librarian-turned-warrior. It was frightening how much that man knew, sometimes.
The smaller, roguish hob darted around Vance, skipping around the sword blow the warrior lashed out at him and tucking into a roll to come up close enough to menace Savra.
There!
Robin murmured a quick set of [Whispers from Beyond] and the hob suddenly stopped in his tracks, an expression of horror on his face. Savra was ready and she swung her mace directly at the rogue’s face.
It connected with a crunch.
The hobgoblin screamed in agony and fear and back-pedalled away from the healer. The larger hob spat out a curse and a threat, but the smaller hob continued to retreat.
‘Don’t let any of them get away!’ Vance shouted.
‘I’m on it!’ Robin said, casting his voice via a [Lesser Phantasm] so the large hob couldn’t pinpoint him.
The warrior-hob had accursedly good hearing and better aim. If Robin hadn’t had [Healing Word], he might have bled out very near the beginning of the battle.
That’s what he got for being careless with his camouflage.
Robin willed himself some cover using [Visual Phantasm], a roil of magical-looking shadow dropping down like a sheet between the larger hobgoblin leader and the fleeing rogue. He covered his movements with sounds via [Lesser Phantasm] and trusted to Vance to keep the leader busy enough that Robin wouldn’t take any major hits.
The bard dashed through the illusory shadows, weaving a bit as he went in a serpentine pattern. It slowed him, but it also made him a bit safer from the odd dagger thrown his way.
In moments, he was around a corner in hot pursuit of the fleeing hobgoblin rogue. Their speed was fairly evenly matched, and the street the rogue was fleeing down was one of the straight avenues, rather than the curving boulevards. Robin took full advantage of this and began conjuring [Lesser Witchbolt]s.
The flaming playing cards sailed ahead of him and struck the hob in the back. The rogue didn’t even stop running to turn and look. Robin had to press harder to try and catch up.
Chest heaving, fingertips sizzling from the magical discharge, it was several more streets before Robin had whittled the hob down to the point where he collapsed, sides heaving, against a nearby wall.
Is Drev alright? How about the others? Robin sent a quick query to Rerebos.
Battle’s finished. All big-big-goblins dead. The allies are about to come looking for you.
Good. He’d have backup soon.
Robin turned his attention to the hobgoblin wheezing against the wall. This one was still alive, and in no shape to pose a credible threat. Might as well see what information Robin could get from him while he waited for the others.
He invoked [Lesser Mindreading]. Time to get some practice in. Instantly he became aware of several minds in his immediate vicinity. Most of them were small, probably rodents and insects and diminutive monsters infesting the nearby ruins. One, however, blazed brightly: the hobgoblin over by the wall.
‘Who are you?’ he asked, playing for time for the spell to grow in power.
The hobgoblin just took two deep shuddering breaths and hawked a lump of blood-filled spittle toward Robin.
Dratch.
The name was floating in the hobgoblin’s mind and Robin plucked it from the stream of thoughts as easily as plucking a leaf from a lazy creek.
Robin decided to try several questions.
‘Why did you attack us? Are these ruins your base? How many others like you are there?’
He put on a good performance of getting irritated as the hobgoblin continued to refuse answering his questions. But even as he did so the answers drifted to the top of the rogue’s mind and Robin was able to easily lift them out.
The hobgoblin had been part of a regular patrol, of which several continually roamed the ruins. The ruins were indeed their base, in a general sense, and with a bit more questioning Robin was able to get a general location of their prime encampment.
The hobgoblin managed to summon up enough wherewithal to threaten him with a rock. Robin ducked the projectile and answered with a [Lesser Witchbolt] to the face.
It was more than the hob could stand. The rogue died then and there, because he had dared spike Robin’s adrenaline.
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Robin shoved the thought out of his mind as he grimly crouched down to search the body. Some rations and a few daggers and other blades that had seen better days were all he managed to turn out of the dead thug’s pockets.
He discarded the rations. He wouldn’t trust them even with [Lesser Phantasm] improving the taste. They hardly looked fit to eat and he had much better options stowed safely in his storage space.
The rest of the party caught up to him shortly after that.
‘We need to move,’ Robin said as soon as they arrived, ‘get ourselves further into the city. According to this one,’ he gestured to the cooling corpse behind him, ‘there is a whole group of hobgoblins here, a—what was the word?—hjuncta. It sounded like a cross between a war band and a small town. Hundreds of them.’
‘Not something we want to run in to if we can help it,’ Drev observed.
The mage had a purpling bruise dawning across his cheek like a sunrise. Robin muttered a [Healing Word] and set it right. Drev nodded his thanks.
‘Hang on to your spells,’ Jhess snapped. ‘We’re not safe yet. You might need the firepower.’
Robin ignored her.
‘I know where we can look for shelter, and a way deeper into the city. I got the impression that the hobs stick mainly to this thin outer rim of the place.’ Robin stood and began walking.
The rest of the party quickly fell into formation around him. He mentally checked in with Rerebos and sent the little dragon a vision of the route he intended to take. There were several locations his research had turned up as potential avenues to the depths of Tarin-Tiran. Many were marked as leading directly to the dungeon that was growing in the ruined city.
Robin intended to avoid those. If they could delve deeper into the city without crossing into the dungeon’s territory they had a better chance of finding actual artefacts and remaining unmolested by monsters far above their capacity to handle.
He led the party through the maze of ruined streets and alternatively pristine and crumbling buildings. There were occasional signs of other hobgoblin patrols but fortunately they didn’t run into any before they arrived at the location Robin had been seeking.
The building itself was one of the remarkably intact ones. Robin got a good feeling just looking at it. Once it had been a tavern, and the sign outside was still brightly painted with the image of three crossed staves, all shining silver.
‘The Silver Staves,’ he said. ‘There should be a passage leading deeper into the city hidden somewhere inside. Come on. If nothing else it should be a good place to set up camp.’
‘It does look defensible,’ Jhess grudgingly agreed. ‘Those are heavy duty shutters and they all seems to still latch.’
The party slipped inside so as to be out of sight, then Jhess quickly scouted out the place for traps or monsters.
‘All clean,’ she said when she reappeared. Then she sneezed, sending dust everywhere. ‘Well, clear, at least.’ She glanced at Robin expectantly.
Robin rolled his eyes but began magically clearing the dust by way of [Legerdemain]. The things people demanded once they got used to them. He was practically being taken for granted.
‘And I’m guessing that is our way down?’ Vance pointed to what looked like a large well in the middle of what once had to have been the common room floor.
‘Should be,’ Robin said, going to have a look. ‘According to legend, it was sealed long before the city fell, but that never seemed right to me. I’m guessing there is some kind of mechanism that the owners used and if we can find it we can probably get the thing open.’
‘And if we can’t?’ Jhess asked.
‘Then I’ve brought along someone who most certainly can, all the while also making sure that we’ve a safe place to stay.’
Robin pulled the little mimic out of his storage space. It helpfully played dumb and acted like a chest. He opened it, revealing Ruprecht’s core.
Drev and Vance gasped. Jhess glared at him sourly and Savra looked as unperturbed as ever.
‘Is that a dungeon core?’ Vance asked.
‘It is,’ Drev confirmed, stepping closer. ‘One that looks strangely familiar.’ He shot Robin a questioning glance.
‘Are individual dungeon cores that recognisable?’ Robin asked airily. ‘I don’t know that they are. And honestly, you should all be far more respectful of our ally. He’s going to be watching our backs and making sure we get further into Tarin-Tiran than any other party that has attempted this city.’
‘I knew you had to have something up your sleeve, putting this expedition together,’ Jhess said, admiration and exasperation warring in her tone, ‘but this is mad, even for you!’
‘You’re going to need to explain everything, in great detail,’ Drev said firmly.
Yeah. There was no way in any number of hells that was happening. Robin just smiled in reply.
There is indeed a mechanism. It’s ensorcelled, however, and incredibly complex.
Ruprecht’s voice echoed in the heads of everyone present. Robin had to stifle a laugh as Jhess leapt nearly three feet into the air.
‘How is he doing that?’ she asked.
I have already claimed the structure as my new territory. You are now safely within my demesne.
‘I am going to kill you, bard,’ Jhess muttered.
‘What will it take to get that passage open, Ruprecht?’ Robin asked, ignoring Jhess’s threat. She’d come around.
Eventually.
Unfortunately it’s very complex and the sorceries are unfamiliar to me. I’ll require a great many energies to fuel my assimilation of the mechanism to the point that I can control—and thus open—it.
‘What does that mean?’ Vance asked.
‘It means we need to lure some hobs in here for our new ally to eat,’ Robin said brightly. ‘Now, who fancies a bit of dinner?’
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