“We have a kobold in the inn. He is our prisoner. I will be interrogating him, and my companions need to rest. I think we should leave in the morning,” Frank added.

“You have a point. Very well. I will send the group to the inn tomorrow mid-morning. Be ready then, or the deal is off.”

“Yes sir,” Marc nodded. “Come on guys.”

The group headed back in the direction of the inn and reached the building after a ten-minute walk.

The bodies had been moved from the door, though nothing else had been touched. The man who had been fighting the kobolds was sitting with his feet on a table, a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Huh. You’re back,” he said, taking a swig.

“Hey. We never caught your name,” Frank said.

“Jim Canar, a follower of Darith, at your service,” the man belched. “I suppose you want me to stop drinking.”

“Well, actually, you’re drinking our property now,” Frank said. “But we’ll let you go with one bottle. Where’d you put the kobold?”

“Oh, he’s upstairs, tied to the staircase. Well, guess I better get going. I’ll be seeing you later,” Jim said, before tossing a gold coin on the counter.

He stood up with the wine bottle and headed out the broken door.

“We need to fix that door before heading to bed,” Marc said.

“I can take care of that,” Thomas offered.

“I can help you-” Frank started.

“No, you’re a bard. You are our diplomacy guy. You get first whack at the kobold. Then Margaret can take a shot. Who can speak Draconic?” Marc asked.

“That’d be me again,” Frank sighed.

He groaned but headed for the stairs anyways.

The kobold was bound to the stair rail, as Jim had said. He had a gag over his mouth, and his hands were tied to his feet. Frank carefully removed the gag, making sure to keep his hands away from the teeth of the creature.

“I have a few questions for you,” he said.

“I will never betray the nest!” the kobold snarled.

“We will get the information. I will be gentle with you. My companions will not,” Frank said. “It’s your choice. First, I want to know how many are in your nest.”

“As many as your mother could hatch before we gutted her,” the kobold spat in his face.

Frank’s hand rose to slap the kobold, but he stopped himself.

“Hey, Margaret! I could use some help here!”

The half-orc walked up the stairs, carrying a wicked-looking dagger. The kobold squealed at the sight.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” he yelped.

“He’s good for now. Just stay there, and look scary,” Frank said, holding up a hand.

He switched back to Draconic, and said, “So, how many are there?”

“300.”

“Where is the entrance?”

“In the woods of Agdur.”

“The Woods of Agdur?”

Frank thought of the area. He recognized the name, but he had no idea where it was.

“I don’t know where that is,” Margaret said.

“Wait, you know Draconic?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I could understand you.”

“Call the others up here. Specifically Thomas. He’s a druid, so he should know the local woods.”

“Hey, guys! Know anything about the Woods of Agdur?” Margaret called.

“You mean the Forest of Argoth!” Logan yelled. “It’s also known as the Woods of Agdur!”

“Perfect,” Frank said.

He turned back to the kobold.

“I am bringing a sheet of paper. My friend will be keeping a knife at your throat to discourage any funny business, while you draw us a map of both the location of the nest and the layout of your nest, showing the place and details of each and every trap. And you will do this knowing that if any of my friends are killed because of your map, you will be killed slowly and in an extremely painful way,” he said.

The kobold nodded meekly, and Frank went to find two sheets of parchment and a quill. He found them in a large room downstairs, near the back, that obviously served as an office, and returned to the captive kobold.

“Hold this,” Margaret told him, slapping the dagger into his hand.

She knelt and began untying the knot. A minute later, she motioned to Frank, and he handed back the dagger.

“Now, start drawing,” he said, shoving the paper and the pen at the kobold. He slid an inkwell at him, and the kobold started drawing.

For forty minutes, the scratch of a quill filled the silent building. Finally, the kobold finished, and Frank took the paper, blowing it dry. Margaret tied the kobold back up, and they walked back down the stairs, Frank switching back to Common.

“Here’s a map of the dungeon,” he said, handing the parchment to Marc.

Thomas was finishing his work on the door, carefully casting the last mending spell that would make the door whole again.

“We should see if there’s a jail in this town, so we can put the kobold in there,” he said listlessly.

“Good idea,” Frank smiled at him, as the druid finished casting the last spell.

“Get a room you two,” Logan sighed.

“You’re just jealous,” Marc told him. “Quit screwing with them.”

“Come on! It’s obvious they’re gay!” Logan complained.

“And why would that be a bad thing? Come on Logan. Get with the 21st century,” Margaret snapped.

“21st century?” Marc questioned, looking at his wife.

Margaret shrugged.

“I have no idea where that came from.”

“Is there anything else that needs to be done tonight?” Thomas asked, his ears burning.

“No. We’ll have to clean this place up later though,” Marc said.

“Excuse me then. I’ll see you all in the morning,” Thomas said, heading for the stairs.

Garyn, ever loyal, followed his master.

“I’m heading to bed as well,” Frank said, following Thomas.

“Gay,” Logan said under his breath.

Frank ignored him. As he walked past the kobold, it stared at him with piercing eyes.

Stopping in front of it, Frank asked, ”Are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I would expect from a scaleless worm.”

Frank shrugged and stepped past the creature. He pushed the door to his room open, and Thomas whirled around in the room, diving for cover, but not before Frank had seen everything.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, shielding his eyes.

“Close the door please,” Thomas said in a strained voice.

Frank did as he was requested, turning his back so Thomas could grab his robe.

“I didn’t realize you were going to share a room with me,” Thomas said as he threw his clothes back on.. “Especially if we own the inn. You have like twenty rooms to choose from.”

“I’ll leave. I just need to grab my bag-”

“No!” Thomas blurted. “It’s just… You being in here just adds fuel for Logan.”

“Screw Logan. He’s an ass.”

“But the others-”

“I seriously doubt they care. We have too many other issues on our hands.”

Thomas sank to the floor beside Garyn.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Frank asked gently.

“We just killed a ton of people,” Thomas whispered, hanging his head.

“Those kobolds would have killed us. It’s terrible that they had to die, but they attacked an innocent town.”

“And so we are going to attack their homes, and kill them all, even the children who have done nothing wrong?”

Frank sighed, sitting next to Thomas.

“Those children will grow up to be evil,” he said. “Kobolds are evil by nature, and if we leave any alive, they will eventually grow up and attack the town, like their parents just did. I don’t want to kill children any more than you do.”

Hesitantly, Frank set his arm around Thomas. When Thomas didn’t pull away, Frank pulled him closer. Thomas rested his head on Frank’s shoulders and drifted off to sleep.

Margaret stood in the kitchen, mixing materials together. Everything seemed rather straightforward. There were eggs, and what appeared to be bacon., though it was cut into slabs, instead of strips.

In the middle of the kitchen was a small fire pit, and a spit. Margaret found a flask of oil, and she dripped some in a pan she had found in a cupboard, lighting a small fire before tossing the scrambled eggs into the pan. A few minutes later, she pulled the pan off the fire and began scraping the eggs out of the pan onto several small wooden plates.

Bringing three of the plates out, she noticed Frank and Thomas walking down the stairs together, their hands touching, but not quite being held.

“You guys ready for breakfast?” she asked, setting a plate in front of Marc.

Thomas mumbled incoherently, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You don’t act like an elf. Try to be more haughty, arrogant,” Margaret joked.

“Screw you, Margaret,” Frank yawned.

“See? Frank’s got it already,” Margaret laughed.

She set the remaining two plates down, before heading back into the kitchen. Bringing out another two plates, she set one on the table, before carrying one upstairs.

“Where are you going?” Marc called.