A Hussst and Inky Story

as told by Hussst

I sat at the table with two elves and a kobold, playing poker. I’d never seen the elves before, but the kobold was an old acquaintance of mine, Shanlan. He and I glowered at each other as the game progressed, but it was a ruse. Kobolds and Dragonborn are natural allies. Kobolds are fiercely loyal to dragons, and Dragonborn are an ancient race of mixed dragon and human blood, and both races speak Draconic). Shanlan was a major black-market supplier and a good informant. Our pretending to be enemies made people who were hesitant to talk to me more likely to talk to him and vice versa.

I knew that the real reason for Shanlan being in town was to negotiate deals (some of them a little shady) with Akemi, who ran the magic shop in town. He also was addicted to her Dragon’s Breath Delight Tea, for, like most kobolds, he couldn’t get enough of anything draconic.

Shanlan was also a talented card player… well, I should say, he was a talented card cheat. He could deal from the bottom of the deck, palm cards, pull aces out of the air, it was a joy to watch… if it were not your chips on the table. He also knew better than to win every hand, the trick was to string the suckers along, letting them think they had a chance, not just for the current game, but next time they had money to bet.

Last time we’d played, he’d fleeced me. But, since we’d played last, I had learned a fair amount about double dealing myself. He’d grinned when he saw me sit down, but, a few hands later, when he saw what I was doing (yes, I could fool almost everyone, but Shanlan knew what to look for), his eyes got wide. But, I reached out to him, psionically, and silently said, “Shall we shear these sheep together?” He smiled and agreed. This was going to be fun… and lucrative.

Meanwhile, Inky sat a few tables away, sharing a quiet drink with Jen Erica. She’d had a crush on him since he and I rescued her from the minotaurs

He was still very shy, but as he and I had formed a strong friendship and his inner relationships with the great dragons had blossomed, he was getting more comfortable with himself and sitting with Jen might have left him a little embarrassed and confused, it was comfortable embarrassment.

Jen was the granddaughter of Akemi, and seeing a business associate of her grandmother growling at me, the other member of the team that had rescued her, made her a little uncomfortable, but she tried to hide it and concentrate on enjoying her time with Inky.

Inky tapped the table to get my attention and made a subtle sign that he wanted to activate a psionic bond. “Trouble ahead?” he asked.

“No,” I said, trying not to laugh out loud, but rather to keep the laughter in my mental voice, while maintaining a poker face. “Shanlan and I are actually friends from way back. This is all an act.” I didn’t share the message with Jen, since she had no capability for guile, and I was sure she would give us away. But, Inky, I knew would reassure her that I was able to handle the situation. Inky and Jen went back to their conversation, although both kept watchful eyes on the game.

The coins slowly but steadily made their way from the elves’ piles to Shalan and mine. Then, curse the timing, Nature called. I collected my coins, made my apologies and made my way out back to the outhouse. Shanlan smiled a predatory smile and said, “I’ll win those from you next time.”

But, the idyllic scene inside was quite a contrast to the scene outside, where a group of fifty armored men on horseback rode into town. Their shields were all the same, a image of a man on horseback slaying a dragon.

The men were riding at a medium trot, their eyes scanning everywhere, looking for something. Their eyes lit on the sign outside of the tavern, which read in Common “Ce Liang Your Love ” and beneath it, in draconic, the translation, “策亮你的愛在這婊子裡上升” Their leader raised a gauntleted fist pointed and yelled “There! Draconic!” His voice was deep and powerful. He was speaking Common, but his accent made it clear that he was from a very distant land.

The other knights drew their weapons and their horses charged the tavern. They quickly dismounted and charged the doors. They scanned the room, beating and bullying the patrons. Shanlan rose and tried to escape the room, but they seized him roughly before he had a chance.

Inky started to rise to stop them. Jen laid a hand on his arm. “No,” she said, “there are too many. You can’t stop them alone.”

Inky heaved an angry sigh and sat down. She was right. He needed help. But, there were no other adventurers in the room or even in town. The circus was on tour, which meant that several of the folks he would normally have called for help were away earning a livelihood, and others had left chasing clues in the quest to find the source of the eternal winter that was plaguing the land. All that were left were he and I, and I had just left the tavern.

Inky psionically connected with Shalan and I, and then linked in Jen for good measure, as he helplessly watched the knights drag Shalan from the tavern. In the outhouse, I cursed, lost valuable time buckling myself up, and ran to the tavern as fast as I could.

But, the invaders were not waiting for me, or anyone else. Two of them forced Shanlan onto a horse with one of the burlier knights, and rode away. Meanwhile, the others threw lit torches into the tavern to set it alight.

I got back in time to see them riding off, but I also realized that Inky, Jen, and the tavern staff and patrons were trapped inside the burning building. My choice of action was clear. I didn’t have enough water to put out the fires, but I had spells. There were a lot of flames, and it wasn’t fast, but I put the fire out. Inky and Jen were not hurt, and most of the patrons were OK, but two of them died in the fire, and three of the barmaids were alive, but badly burned.

“What happened?” I asked.

Shanlan was still within range of Inky’s mind link, and he filled in the details. The attackers were members of the Fellowship of St. George, a band of knights dedicated to wiping out dragons, their friends and kin from existence. The same subtle signs that lead our fellow adventurers to this place to start our quest for the dragons involved (for good or ill) with the eternal winter had been detected by the Fellowship. And, the Fellowship had every intention of finding and killing those dragons, and anyone else that stood in their way, threat of eternal winter be damned.

Inky and I quickly ran to the stable where my horse, Buttercup, was kept. We didn’t have much time before the Fellowship took Shanlan out of range, and our communication would be gone. Inky told Jen (who was no adventurer) stay behind and to get word out, as best she could, to anyone who could help.

Questions presented themselves. Why did the Fellowship grab Shanlan rather than killing him? Where were they going to in such a hurry? How much power did the Fellowship have with them, were there others than the ones we had seen? And most importantly how could we stop them?

Though well behind the knights and Shanlan, we were able to stay in touch. Shanlan told us, “Somehow, they found out that there is a kobold monastery a few days from here, and they are making me lead them there. They believe that the monks know about the locations of the members of the dragon senior council, and they intend to torture them for information before slaughtering them.”

“Hold on, we’re on our way.”

“Be careful. These guys have arrows, and they are known to be crack shots.”

I was taken aback by this. Arrows had a better range than any of my spells and any of Inky’s attacks. I had arrows too, of course, but the Fellowship had me outnumbered. The odds were not looking good. Our only hope was to get to the monastery before the Fellowship and lay an ambush.

Buttercup is a fast horse, and the Fellowship were in full plate armor, making them heavy and slow. However, the valleys in the area provided few passageways, and we would have had to go through the Fellowship’s forces to make it to the monastery first.

I was able to find a passing sparrow, and cast a small spell to put the sparrow under a geas to go to the monastery and give warning to the monks. That would give them some time to prepare.

Then, inspiration struck. We rode up close to the Fellowship. I cast a darkness spell on an arrow and fired it at the knights of the Fellowship. The darkness traveled with the arrow, blanketing the Fellowship in complete impenetrable darkness that I alone could see through. Buttercup charged into the darkness, weaving through the Fellowship’s disoriented ranks . The bond between a bandit and his horse is a miracle to behold, only a few Dressage masters could control their steeds the way I could control Buttercup. While Inky yelled out conflicting commands to the Fellowship horses, I maneuvered Buttercup past them.

They were completely flummoxed. We could hear them stumble, fall, and curse (some of them quite colorful), as we charged through them. I would have loved to have attacked the enemy as we rode past, but Inky couldn’t see through the darkness, only I could, and controlling Buttercup in the darkness required all of my concentration. But, we managed to run through their midst and get ahead of them. I didn’t stop to fight then, I wanted to get out of their range before someone stumbled out of the darkness.

I lavished praise on Buttercup. I could not have been prouder of her! She’d seen me through many a fight and many a desperate ride, but this was truly the most impressive thing she had ever done. But, there was no time to pause for congratulations, or even to give Buttercup a sugar cube. We had to make it to the monastery, and quickly.

I concentrated on navigating the winding valleys as we raced against time. Shanlan kept us informed of the progress of the Fellowship. The riders seemed to be more interested in taking out their frustration on Shanlan than catching up, which was OK with us, but it meant that we were soon out of communication range. Inky spent his time mulling over strategies.

Eventually, the monastery came into view. It was clearly a monastery, not a castle, and it was built for quiet religious contemplation, not for a siege. There was a wall, but it was not going to stand up long against determined knights.

But, the sparrow had clearly delivered his message. The monks were reinforcing the walls and entrance, and seemed to have armed themselves with makeshift weapons. They clearly were not warriors, but at least they were preparing to stand their ground.

But, without help, they would be slaughtered. I knew that. Inky knew that. And, however much spunk the monks had, they knew that.

Buttercup continued to gallop to the walls. She must have been exhausted, but thanks be to Bi’an, she made it. Inky and I dismounted quickly, and I threw the reigns to the nearest monk and commanded, “Get my horse water, apples, and give her a rubdown!” The monk meekly obeyed, without even asking who I was.

“Now,” I said oozing authority, “who is in charge here?”

An elderly monk came forward and introduced himself in draconic, “I am Zǒng Zhùchí” (“the head abbot”). “Are you Hussst and Inky?” I nodded. “I greet you in the name of all who follow the dragons. Please tell us what to do.”

We set about to setting traps for the fellowship. As best we could tell, we had only a few hours before they got here, and there was much to be done. The monks only spoke Draconic, but Zǒng was able to identify three other leaders and Inky created a mental link with them, Zǒng, and myself.

We reinforced the gate by the wall, dug and disguised holes to trip the horses, and laid out a maze of hay bales, to keep the horses from being able to charge us in a straight line.

When the Fellowship arrived, we were ready. The monk on watch called out that the Fellowship was close, and all of the monks drew back behind the monastery walls. We heard a trumpet call from the knights, and the battle began.

It wasn’t what St. George’s knights had expected. They had hoped to catch the monks unaware and run them through with their lances. But, they couldn’t even see where the monks were because of the bales of hay. Nor could they get clean arrow shots, for the same reason.

Then, as they maneuvered their horses through the hay, I fired flaming arrow after flaming arrow into the hay. The fires spread quickly, and the horses panicked, sever of them throwing their riders off onto the ground. Inky created an illusion of a dragon flying full at the knights and their horses. While some disbelieved, enough did that the scared knights and horses ran into each other, trampling several of the knights, and the remaining horses tripped in the holes which we had dug. If this were going to be a battle, it was going to be a ground battle, the Fellowship had lost the advantage of fighting from horseback.

The ones who survived regrouped. Realizing that we were behind the walls of the monastery, they grabbed a battering ram and charged the gate entrance, their shields held high to protect them from arrows or objects dropped from above. They hit the gate hard, and the gate began to crack. It might take two or three blows to open it, but it was clearly not going to last.

It didn’t have to. That one crack was all I needed. As they came for a second charge they were met by a burst of my dragon breath. The air roiled with the thunder that I spewed. While a few of them survived, there were not enough left to hold up the battering ram, let alone make a second pass.

Their leader yelled, “RETREAT!” Of the initial fifty, there were only ten left able to heed the call to retreat. The kobolds rejoiced laughing and crying, most of them shaking like leaves, “We’ve won!”

“He’s OK!” one of the monks shouted. He had found Shanlan, still bound to a dead horse, tired, hurt, and with a broken leg, but alive.

I wanted to chase after the retreating knights, but Inky stopped me. “We don’t know if there are reinforcements nearby to attack the monastery while we are chasing the retreating invaders. If there are, they could make short work of the monastery. We have to stay and protect it.”

We knew it was just the first round. Shanlan had discovered that the Fellowship of St. George had descended on the region in huge numbers, and we could count on them coming back to the monastery with reinforcements and attacking anyone and anything associated with dragons. This eternal winter; the Fellowship of St. George, it was all connected somehow. We knew that if we didn’t stop them, it won’t just be the dragons who suffer—it’ll be everyone.”