“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get you to ride a horse just fine.” Thomas said. “But hey, looks like you’re remembering more things.”

Garyn moaned, and rolled onto his back so Thomas could scratch his stomach.

“Hey Thomas? On the horse, when you were holding me up, did you-? I mean, I thought I felt you-” Frank trailed off.

Thomas grimaced.

“This never leaves the room,” he said.

“Of course not,” Frank swore.

Thomas sighed.

“You’re probably straight, and even if you were gay, you’d have so many better options than me.”

“I don’t know about that. You seem great to me. Remember that time you saw Logan kick that dog?”

“I did? I don’t remember that at all.”

“Yeah. You stopped him and found the dog’s home,” Frank said.

Thomas gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Thomas, you are awesome. Don’t downplay yourself.”

Frank reached out and took Thomas’ hand. Thomas’ heart skipped a beat as he looked into Frank’s eyes.

A bell began ringing rather loudly outside, sounding like someone was hitting it with a hammer. Garyn perked up, and began growling after a sniff.

“What is it boy?” Thomas said, crouching beside the wolf.

“Some kind of an alarm,” Frank said. “I think we should go make sure Logan didn’t kill someone.”

“Would he really do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Frank sighed.

Thomas followed Frank out of the room, and down the stairs. The lower floor was like a scene from a horror movie. Several short, red, reptilian creatures armed with tiny spears were running through the room, fighting the man the group had seen drinking half an hour ago. The man was holding the creatures off with a broken bottle, but he was losing ground fast. Several bodies were lying by the door, one of which was the innkeeper’s. There was no sign of Logan, Marc, or Margaret. Blood was pooled on the floor and splattered across the walls.

Without thought, Thomas stopped on the third stair from the bottom and pulled out his bow. He spent a few seconds stringing it, then nocked an arrow to the string. Drawing the string back to the edge of his mouth, Thomas let the arrow fly.

The missile hissed through the air and slammed through a kobold’s throat. Another missile, this one from the crossbow Frank was carrying, nailed another kobold to the wall. As the creatures began turning, Thomas let loose another arrow. It slew a third kobold, and the rest began converging on the staircase, as Thomas hastily stowed his bow back in its quiver. He pulled out his sword as the first kobold reached the staircase. Garyn growled and lunged at the kobold. The kobold thrust with his spear, and stabbed Garyn in the back, even as Garyn bowled him over.

“Garyn! Back!” Thomas shouted, and the wolf limped back up the stairs.

Thomas would have cried if he hadn’t been so infuriated by the kobold’s attack. He drew the sword on his hip, and threw himself at the kobold as Frank fired another bolt into the gang.

Thomas’ sword sliced through the neck of the fallen kobold, and blood sprayed the group clustered by the stairs. Enraged by their companions’ deaths, the three remaining creatures came after Thomas. He slashed at one that tried to go past him, and missed. The other two jabbed at him with their spears, and he knocked them both aside with his sword. Another bolt flew past the kobolds, shattering against the wall. Garyn snapped at the kobold beside Thomas, and bit through the creature’s arm. He growled at the other kobolds, bloody teeth bared, and the kobolds turned and ran.

The fighter downstairs was blocking the door, fighting a solo kobold. He did not seem happy to have two more suddenly jump on him.

Thomas dropped his sword with a clang, and brought his bow back out. He fired an arrow at a kobold that was charging the man, and hit him in the back. Beside him, Frank lined up a shot, and fired his crossbow. His shot flew into the shutters beside one of the kobolds, and the creature let out a terrified yip. It was silenced a second later as the man knocked the kobold out. Thomas shot at the last kobold, and his arrow pierced its heart.

In the sudden silence of the inn, Frank could hear the sounds of fighting outside the inn.

“We need to go,” he said.

Thomas grabbed his sword, hastily wiped the blood off the blade, and slid it back into his scabbard. Frank walked to the man.

“There is a rope upstairs, in a bag. Tie this one up so we can talk to it later,” he said, handing the man a knife.

“Thank you,” the man said. “I don’t think I could have held them off any longer.”

He turned to Thomas.

“That was some great shooting. Where did a druid learn to shoot like that?”

“I had a ranger friend once. He taught me a bit about shooting,” Thomas fibbed.

Or maybe it was the truth. It wasn’t like he could remember.

“Excuse me, we need to find our friends.”

“They went that way. I was about to follow them when those kobolds attacked.”

“Thanks,” Frank said, before the two ran outside.

Logan raised a crossbow to his eye. He sighted a kobold running towards him, and he pulled the trigger.

The bolt flew between Marc and Margaret, and hit the kobold in the shoulder. The kobold dropped with a cry, and the yapping of the rest increased tenfold.

“Let one through when they reach you!” Logan called to the others.

“I don’t think that will be a problem!” Marc yelled, as almost twenty kobolds approached the alley they were backed up in.

Margaret twirled her blade around and held it at the ready, waiting for the kobolds to approach. A pair of the creatures came within reach, and the two defenders struck. Marc slammed his mace into a head, and Margaret stabbed her sword into the other kobold’s throat. Margaret shoved the kobold back, and stepped forward, standing over the new corpse. She snarled at the kobolds, blood dripping from her sword. The rest of the kobolds stared at her, stunned.

Suddenly, another twenty kobolds came into view, most of them wielding bloody spears. The kobolds grinned, and began walking forward again.

“Shit!” Logan yelped, as a rock hit the wall behind him.

Margaret swung her blade again, as a bolt from Logan hit a kobold in the arm. She stabbed into a kobold, using the body stuck on the blase to bludgeon another. Marc cracked the injured kobold in the head, and yanked his wife back as a spear almost skewered her.

“Well, we’re screwed,” Logan said.

A kobold stepped forward, an evil grin on his face.

“You have put up a fight,” he yipped. “But like all others, your village will fall.”

Logan dropped the crossbow and drew his sword. With his other hand, he removed a bit of wool from the pouch at his side.

He whispered, “Army of rats,” and blew on the wool.

A second later, everyone heard a swarm of squeaking rats approaching. The kobold leader began glancing around nervously, and Logan reclaimed his crossbow, loading another bolt in it. Before he could shoot the kobold, an arrow sailed into the back of the kobold’s head.

Silence reigned, as the kobold fell. Kobold, elf, human and half-orc all stared at the fallen kobold. Suddenly, with several loud yips, the horde of kobolds split ways. About ten came charging towards Marc and the other two, while the rest fled either right or left, trying to escape.

Margaret leapt into action, whirling through the kobolds with her sword. She skewered a pair and missed a third as it darted past her. Logan shot the runner with his crossbow, quickly reloading as Marc pushed forward. An arrow landed in the ground by a kobold, and it squealed, trying to stab Margaret with its spear. Margaret stepped aside, her sword decapitating the kobold as it fell past her. Bringing her weapon back up, she knocked another spear aside.

Marc swung his mace at a kobold, and missed, hitting the ground with plenty of weight behind the blow. The kobold lunged, and Marc threw himself to the side, almost hitting the alley wall. He knocked another spear aside as Logan shot the kobold that had made its way through the line.

Margaret sliced through another two kobolds as an arrow slew a third. The final two kobolds glanced at each other, then charged desperately towards the fighter. Margaret dodged their assault with ease, but it left her in no position to attack. Marc missed a kobold, and two arrows flew through the air. One hit the kobold’s foot, while the other landed in its neck.

The last kobold struck at Margaret again, and she knocked the spear out of the way with her sword, before running her other blade in the kobold’s gut.

Silence took over once more. Marc looked at his wife.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked.

“They didn’t even touch me. For having so many attackers, I’d say we were lucky,” Margaret said. “We need to see if anyone else needs our help though.”

“Hey! Are you guys okay?” Thomas called, jogging towards them.

“We’re good. You?”

“Doing okay. So, these are kobolds?”

“Yep. Not so innocent, are they?”

Frank hurried toward them.

“There’s a mob headed this way. It looks like a melee, but it’s mostly kobolds. A large group too.”

“Larger than that group?” Thomas asked.

“Much bigger,” Frank nodded.

Logan began pawing through the kobold leader’s robes. He found a foot-long stick, a wand, and shoved it in his own robes. He also lifted ten silver off the corpse.