[Sticks]

Episode I – He’s Leaving Home

The Walong Mountains
The Mystical Realms

Meetal and his master journeyed into the desert together. It seemed almost like old times, Faithful Meetal and his master, the Lord Low Troll, however Meetal felt very ill at ease.

Skulking into the lair of the now Lady High Troll at the port town of Faldon to overhear her plans was one thing, but now Meetal was to travel to another world. And a world under occupation by those if they knew, would be his master’s enemies.

It was pleasing that his master thought so highly of him a mere kobold, that he could be entrusted with such a mission, but to the Realm of Mortals?

Even before the War of the Realms that the humans had lost, he had heard many scary things from that world. The humans had not gone down the route of magic, they had gone down the route of machines and something called tek-no-lagy, what ever that was. Long before the civil war, just before his master had suffered a defeat in the courts, their realm had flirted with such things, imported from the Realm of Mortals, but after that war, they returned to the ways of magic and hard graft.

Meetal looked around the wilderness, now that it was dark he could see better than in the daytime. Like all kobolds, he did not see so well in blazing sun, but he had learned to adapt and use his sense of smell and keen hearing. He had had to back in the days when he and his master was still in power.

No! Meetal must not stay in the past, for Meetal has an important mission for his master. But why oh why must it be on that other world?

“Well Meetal my old friend” his master said to break the silence of the night, “We are almost halfway there”
“Yes my liege” Meetal replied, “But are you sure it will be safe from there he asked, dimension gateways are powerful magics”

Meetal’s master stopped and looked up at one of the moon’s and sighed, apparently ignoring Meetal’s question. “Meetal my old friend” his master began, “Sometimes when I come out into this desert I hear the cries”
“Of the wilderness animals or the dragons my liege?” Meetal asked, noting the change of subject.

His master lowered his head and shook it, “No my old friend, I hear the cries of those who had to be eliminated when I was younger”

Meetal was shocked, why his master was having self doubt about how they had had to rule the Mystical Realms all those cycles back. This was not like him in the glory days, when his master would readily sign death warrants to execute political opponents and rebels, sometimes on trumped up charges. It was not like him at all as when he would order troll snatch squads to the Realm of Mortals and grab the spirits of virtue and vice who would dare to break the sacred law banning the interference in the affairs of mortals.

“But my liege” Meetal whined, “Most of them deserved it. They were breakers of the law, they were rebels. We did what we did to keep order sire”

“I tried to tell myself that my friend” his master replied in a said voice, “Yes indeed some were criminals who probably deserved it, but some probably not”
“But we had to do what we had to” Meetal insisted.
“I know my old friend” His master conceded, “But I still hear their screams, especially those we executed for expediency, but were wholly innocent”

“Innocent my Liege?” Meetal said, before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry my liege, I spoke out of turn” Meetal swiftly apologised.

“Oh Meetal” his master replied, “There are things I had to do before you and I were acquainted, things that one can not boast of”
“But I’m sure my liege they were necessary” Meetal reassured his master
“Maybe they were at the time, but that does not help when I am in bed at night in my cave listening to the desert winds and they sound like their cries.”

Meetal’s master stopped and swallowed, and Meetal could here raw emotion in his voice as his mast was just able to continue. “Now I hear the cries of those humans who were slain because of what I did or did not do all those cycles ago”

“My Liege?” Meetal asked in confusion, “That was not you, that was the Lady High Troll her consort Vabalavich and that new treacherous Clan Chief of the Manjura”

“By Lady High Troll you mean Brameana?” Meetal’s master asked

Meetal nodded, still confused. “I do not understand my liege” Meetal pressed, “This troll is from that treacherous clan of trolls who cowardly ran from their home lands to the Far Islands and made unholy alliance with those bugbear fiends you spoke of. She has nothing to do with you, or do you mean you should have sent an invasion force to those accursed islands”

“There is so much blood on my hands because of her” Meetal’s master said cryptically

“I still do not understand my Liege” Meetal replied, “but if you wish me to find this Mr Vee I will try” he added, guessing that he was not going to get a coherent answer.

“I knew you would not let me down my old friend” Meetal’s master sighed, then as if to change subject he pointed to yet another mountain in the distance, “We must go there as an outcrop of loadstone should cover us from prying eyes when I open up the gateway to the Realm of mortals”

Meetal peered at the mountain, “That will take us to suns up to reach there, and then you will have to return to the cave in the heat of the day”

“Do not worry about me” His master assured Meetal, “I have grown used to the ways of this desert”

Meetal was still puzzled with his master’s fascination with the Lady High Troll, what was she to his master. Meetal knew better than to ask. All he knew was that for some reason he detected a hint of fondness and sorrow in his voice when he spoke of her, and yet utter contempt when he mentioned Vabalavich, the drow consort. As for the third party that Clan Chief of the Manjura who had once been deputy to the son of Meetal’s master, he did not speak of him.

It was rumoured that the Lady High Troll had made her drow consort governor of the Realm of Mortals so she could turn her attention to running the Mystical Realms as absolute ruler, with the reluctant loyalty of all the other troll clans that were not of the accursed Ghetto clan.

Slowly they trudged through the night, looking at the moons and the stars.

Meetal was also keeping an eye out for those who might wish them ill, after all his master still had enemies from the old days who would gleefully kill the pair of them, if they were not convinced he was already slain.

As they trudged across the cold desert sands, Meetal reflected back to the start of the civil war that ended his life of comfort and opulence. At the beginning of that terrible war, everyone believed that in a pre-emptive attack by the orcs, his master had been brutally slain, with his head placed on a pike staff. But it had not been his master who had been slain at the start of the civil war. Oh no

It had been Midah, his master’s twin brother.

Only Meetal had known of this brother, as Midah’s existence had been kept secret, how Meetal did not know.

Midah had been useful, although during the reign of his master as the Lord Low Troll. Midah was not as bright as other trolls due to some sickness of the mind since birth. Midah was devoted to his brother the Lord Low Troll, and sometimes Midah had stood in for his brother on occasions. When Mida took his brother’s place, Meetal would keep watch to make sure anyone asking awkward questions was swiftly dealt with.

Meetal’s master had told Meetal that Midah was better than any doppelganger as his loyalty was guaranteed and doppelgangers could be detected with the right magics.

It was Midah who had been slain that day when the civil war had broken out. Meetal had spotted that the Arch Orc was consorting with a hooded figure, and that the orcs were not fighting amongst themselves as they usually did. Meetal had carefully told his master this, and so he had left under cover of darkness leaving his brother to fill in, so he could direct a counter strike.

They had planned to bring Midah out to safety, but the war started before they could, and after the death of what others thought was his master, the troll clans fractured with some siding with the orcs, those treacherous tolls. His master was devastated, but comforted himself with the fact that even though his brother could never have served in the troll army due to his sickness of the mind, he had in the end made the ultimate sacrifice by saving the life of Meetal’s master.

A big blag object swooped down towards the troll and the Kobold, screaming as it dived on them.

“Dragons!” Meetal yelled, very conscious that they were in the open with no chance of cover.

But his master stood firm and just held out his arms and yelled at the creature.

The black creature swished past and flew off.

To Meetal’s relief and embarrassment it had turned out to be some large bird.
“Carrion Eagle” Meetal’s master said out loud, “He must have thought we had perished in the sands”
“I am sorry my Liege I shouted so” Meetal apologised, “I really though it was a dragon come to take us”
“Never mind my old friend” his master reassured him, “They do look like dragons to the unwary”
“You are so clever to identify them my liege” Meetal replied, still feeling ashamed at his outburst of terror.
“I only know them because I have resided here for so long, my old friend. But come, we must make that mountain so you can be on your way”
“Yes my Liege” was all Meetal could reply.

From then on they walked towards the mountain in almost silence save for the occasional nocturnal animal, which Meetal’s master readily identified.

Who would have thought that there was so much life in what Meetal thought was a forbidding wilderness and wasteland.

As the first of the two suns started to peek above the horizon they finally reached the foot of the mountain that had the fabled loadstone rock. Loadstone was at a premium in some parts of the Mystical Realms, as it could be used by navigators in ships to help them find their way, or it was used by some in protection from magic potions.

There was this other use, that Meetal’s master knew of, related to those potions. It was said that if one found a large outcrop, then one could safely use a dimension jump orb without being detected.

Meetal spotted another small cave, and from it came the sound of running water.

“Once you have gone my old friend” Meetal’s master told him, I will fill up my waters skins and head back.
“You will be alright my liege” Meetal queried.
“I have done this before, my old friend, as well as the loadstone there are some fine Harag roots. They do not grow so well back at my cave. If anyone asks, I was merely gathering a supply. They give the Targon berry wine and added zing”

The second sun now peeked above the horizon as they reached the outcrop of loadstone, and there they stopped.

Meetal gulped

This would be it, travelling to another world.

Slowly Meetal’s master pulled from his bag a black cloak that was lined with red silk, and gave it to Meetal. Slowly Meetal put it on, but did not pull the hood up.

Then his master handed Meetal an iron talisman and then began to explain it’s working. “Hold this in the direction of Mr Vee and it will glow with a green light. I had it made some years back. Mr Vee was given a similar one years ago. If he is still alive and has his talisman, it will alert him that you are on his world searching for him”
“But what if Mr Vee is dead my Liege” Meetal asked, “Killed in one of those fire storms that the Lady High Troll used to subdue the humans into submission”

Meetal’s master thought for a moment. It was obvious that such a possibility had not occurred to him. But what was Meetal to do if that was the case.

“Then my dear friend there will be no green glow but if that is the case then there is someone else, if they are alive, you are to seek”
“Who my liege” A puzzled Meetal asked.

Meetal’s master seemed to paused and then said, “Mr Vee awe” and then he stopped. “Mr Vee has a daughter. I am not sure if she knows or knew he was her father, but Mr Vee spoke highly of her and that she was in the same line as him. Making sure that the humans did not interfere with us”
“And this will find her?” Meetal asked holding up the talisman.

His master nodded. the talisman will, if she survives, glow a yellow light if you point it in her direction. If you meet with his daughter, tell her that a friend of her father wishes to make a deal to help free her world of the forces of that wretched drow”

“And The Lady High Troll” Meetal chipped in.

For a slight moment anger flickered across the face of his master. Anger at Meetal. But then it subsided to a look of sadness, “Yes my old friend, your are perfectly right, I will help free their Realm of that Drow and Brameana.

Meetal put the talisman on.

There was one final thing for his master to give him.

It was a blue orb

It was a dimension jump orb!

Slowly Meetal’s master instructed him how it was to be used. He told him the incantation to open a wormhole and how to target it at a specific location and more importantly, how to shut it off.
One thing Meetal was, was a quick study at times. To be an efficient informer and sneak, back in the glory days he had to be. Even so the details on using a dimension jump orb seemed daunting.

Ideally Meetal would have wanted more time, but that was not an option. Meetal then recited back to his master the instructions about the orb to his master’s satisfaction.

Meetal was now ready to open his first ever worm hole to the Realm of Mortals, but to where on that world.

“My Liege” Meetal asked, “Your friend Mr Vee”
“Yes Meetal my old friend?”
“Do you know where about on that other world he lived?”

Meetal’s master thought long and hard, and then replied, “That world is splintered into many lands as they did not until their fall have a one world government. Mr Vee came from one of the most powerful of that world, a place called the United States of America. I believe that with his penchant for secrets and subterfuge on behalf of his land, He used to reside in the capital city of that land. A place called Washington DC”

Then Meetal’s master’s head drooped

“My Liege?” Meetal asked.

His master looked up at Meetal with sad eyes, “That was one of the first cities to have one of those smaller atom bombs detonated in it”
“Atom bomb?” Meetal asked in confusion
“Sorry my old friend” His master replied, “The smaller of those fire storms that Brameana used, they were caused by what humans call atomic bombs. The larger one were caused by what they call hydrogen bombs”
“Maybe he survived?” Meetal ventured
“Perhaps” His master sighed, “If not seek his daughter as I said”
“If both are dead?” Meetal asked quietly
“I will be here for an hour or so gathering the Harag root, come straight back as soon as you have found no signal and meet me at the cave with the spring. There we will work on another option”

Meetal took a deep breath and pulled up the hood of his cloak. Instantly Meetal disappeared from view. He was now invisible.

Slowly Meetal started to process of opening the gateway to the Realm of Mortal. He was going to land in that city where this Mr Vee was last resident, even if it was destroyed.

Meetal stopped.

Would it be safe?

Meetal pulled down his hood and reappeared. “My Liege, I planned to go to this Washington DC, but you said it was hit first”

It seemed that his master could read Meetal’s mind, “A good idea, it should be safe to land there by now”

“Yes my Liege” Meetal replied and redid his cloak of invisibility, gulped and restarted the orb.

In front of him a blue dot started to swirl and quickly it became a vortex.

A wave of fear crept over metal as he gazed into the vortex. He had seen them from a distance and had seen troll snatch squads use them many a time. This was his first time using one.

If there had been a god of Kobolds, Meetal would have been offering intensive prayers right now.

Meetal closed his eyes then opened them and pushed through the swirling blue vortex.

Suddenly Meetal felt a weird sensations as if every part of his being were suddenly ripping apart although there was no pain. He was conscious of being in a long tunnel of blue swirling light. As he passed along through this vortex he seemed to get glimpses from outside, or he thought he did. It seemed like he was flying between giant bubbles, unimaginably huge. Then it seemed they weren’t bubbles, but he was flying between what seemed like infinitely big sheets, rippling with gigantic undulations.

Was he actually seeing this? Was his imagination running wild? What Meetal did wonder was how did the troll snatch squads that used to go to the Realm of Mortals to arrest the Major Spirits of Virtue and Vice, learn to deal with all the wonders that Meetal seemed to be observing.

Maybe they were focused on a mission, where as Meetal had been dreading going through the vortex to a land he had never journeyed to. Maybe what he was experiencing was just his imagination.

Then he thought he felt himself coming together again and in the distance a light rapidly approaching.

Suddenly there was a grey sky in front of him, with a giant cloud in the sky that seemed to for many leagues in all directions, with no sight of this world’s solitary sun.

Meetal stepped forward out of the vortex which still swirled behind him.

Quickly Meetal came to himself and with the blue orb issued the incantation that caused the blue vortex behind him to evaporate in seconds.

He was now standing on another world, one which was completely alien to him. For one thing, they only had one sun to light and warm their world, when it was not obscured by the never ending cloud in the sky. They only had one moon.

Meetal looked around.

It was a city in ruins, caused by the Lady High Troll’s firestorm.

Meetal then remembered his master back on his world who would be collecting Harag root in case he had to give account as to why he was on that mountain, should the magic loadstone not have hidden the working of the dimension jump orb.

From what his master had said of this strange realm, he would be able to tell by the single sun in the sky, where their North and South were, if only he could see their sun through the large cloud.

Meetal briefly scanned the sky, and was just able to make out through the cloud, where the single sun was located. Now he could start to get his bearings on this strange world.

He then pulled out the talisman he had been given and slowly turned around. When he was facing south, he discerned a faint yellow glow.

The daughter was alive!

Slowly Meetal turned to face the other direction, and in the direction, he guessed as West of North East, the talisman glowed green. His master’s friend was alive after all.

For a moment Meetal contemplated going straight back to tell his master the good news. His master would be so pleased to learn his friend was alive and maybe they could...

Suddenly a familiar scent hit Meetal’s keen nose. It was a scent well known on his own world, but well out of place in this strange Realm of mortals. It was the scent that comes when someone was teleporting in. Someone from Meetal’s world was about to teleport in. A horror overcame Meetal as he registered what it was, and he fled from where he had landed as fast as he could go down stream of the howling wind. Quickly he flung himself behind the remains of a ruined building. If he was right then his master’s cloak of invisibility would be useless.

As Meetal watched from his improvised cover he saw a drow materialise where he had been standing moments before.

However this drow was not brandishing his usual sword, although it hung from his belt. It was one of those weapons that the humans used, “tubes that spit death.”

How had this drow found him, and so quickly

It was pointless taking on a drow, even if there were not armed with those human weapons. Drow could use dark magics, especially if, as his master suspected, they were from the Hadreth Order of the Drow.

The other problem was that these drow would easily see Meetal, as they could see invisible beings. Even worse, they might sense the magic from the cloak of invisibility.

Carefully Meetal pulled back the hood so that it stopped working. He just hoped nobody else would see him. His master had meant well in giving him such a magic garment, but he was not to know that Meetal’s arrival would correspond with the arrival of a drow. Meetal would have to use his usual skills to try and skulk away, but for now he had to keep very still.

Meetal listened in as the drow spoke into a black box like object. He seemed to be talking about something called Sky Guard, what ever that was. Then as he listened, he discovered that whatever this Sky Guard was, it had spotted the blue vortex by which he had travelled to the Realm of Mortals

Instantly he feared for his master. Would this Sky Guard, whatever it was lead the drow to where his master was back on his world. Meetal eyed the blue orb and silently pleaded to nobody in particular not to give his master away. Then he turned his attention back to the drow, who was still talking to the black box thing.

Astonishingly the black box was talking back, although Meetal had trouble picking out what it was saying. What kind of magic was this? Was this the tek-no-lagy he had heard his master mention, a means of replicating magic with machines. It seemed so far fetched to Meetal, but there it was.

From what he could make out the box was convinced that Sky Guard had picked up Meetal’s arrival, and the drow had not been able to catch whoever did it.

Meetal watched in awe and terror as the drow started to sniff. Then the drow pulled out some crystal on piece of twine. This was bad, a crystal of detection

Suddenly the drow turned rapidly away from Meetal and levelled the “tube that spits death” at something in the distance.

“Halt or I fire” The drow yelled in one of the human tongues. Meetal could identify that the humans called it English.

Dare Meetal make use of this diversion to skulk away?

He had to, if there was going to be any confrontation, the area could soon be swarming with Ghetto Trolls, bugbears, orcs or who knows what.

Keeping one eye on the drow as it started to interrogate two human survivors, possibly oldsters by the look of it, Meetal crept further round the ruin he had been observing from and when he had made sure the drow could not see him, he ran with all his might to another ruined building and along another street.

Meetal had to keep on the move, especially if the drow were onto him. He desperately wanted to travel back to the mountain and warn his master if it were not too late, but would that not bring more drow courtesy of that Sky Guard thing.

Through burnt out streets Meetal hurried, always trying to keep in the shadows. He had no idea how powerful this Sky Guard was, plus the drow had a crystal of detection. Such items were a trackers dream and no cloak of invisibility would thwart such a device.

Then he came to a board that had obviously been erected since what his master had called an atomic bomb had blown up in the city.

On it were pieces of paper. For a moment Meetal’s curiosity got the better of him and he went up to look at it.

The pictures were of humans, with names written by many hands underneath each picture of a human. Meetal pondered for a moment on what this could be. Why had humans put pictures of faces on a wooden board in the midst of a shattered city?

He looked a little closer and read one of the pieces of writing under the image of a young adult female human. It gave a name, followed by this short piece

You were my dearest sister and I miss you terribly every day. I pray you are not dead, but if you are then we will meet each other again in heaven, you will not be forgotten, my dearest twin

A lump went down Meetal’s throat. It was a shrine to all who had perished in the attack on this city of Washington DC.

“No” Meetal quietly cried out, “I’m so sorry” he apologised to the pictures of all the fallen”. Meetal bowed his head and remembered how he had seen the Lady High Troll and her drow consort in the port town of Faldon while they were gathering these devices that were to cause so much death to the humans and result in his world own falling to this wretched troll of the accursed Ghetto clan

“If only I had known” he choked out, “But what could I do?” he pleaded to the pictures of the dead people.

But what could he have done?

Meetal had to get a grip, there was nothing he could have done. He had heard how the authorities had tried to deal with the invasion of Faldon, but the troll army had been vaporised by one of those infernal; atom bombs. If he had tried to warn the Central City, it would have done no good, given how the former Deputy Clan Chief of the Manjura had also thrown in his lot with the Lady High Troll. In fact it was this treacherous troll that made sure all the trolls loyal to previous order were on that doomed mission.

The truth was that the troika of the Lady High Troll, Drow Consort Vabalavich and the Deputy Clan Chief of the Manjura could not have been stopped by the time the invasion of Faldon had played out. They had carried out a very effective surprise attack which nobody saw coming.

Even so this did not help Meetal’s pangs of guilt at not being able to stop this carnage

Meetal had to stop this self pity and reflection. Meetal had a job to do, find this human called Mr Vee and let him know that somehow his master has a plan to free Earth from the rule of the Lady High Troll and her consort.

Meetal also had to make sure he kept several steps ahead of the drow, who had somehow spotted his arrival.

If only he could warn his master – but for all he knew it might be too late. Poor master. Everyone had said he was evil for just wanting to maintain law and order on The Mystical Realms. They said he was tyrannical, but with different races, there needed to be a firm hand.

Meetal tore himself away from the board and after checking the talisman of location, did his best to head off in a north easterly direction. He just hoped this Mr Vee was still in this city, for the soonest he found him, the soonest he could get home from this alien world. Again he just hoped his master was safe.

Where Meetal could he kept to the side of the buildings that remained, but for what he had been told was a capital city it seemed awfully empty and devoid of life. Was everyone killed off by the fire storms, if so where were the bodies

From what Meetal could tell of this city, there were quite a lot of open green spaces. As he skulked through what remained of the city, he spotted the occasional human, but Meetal was adept at hiding. Years of practice in the corridors of power when his master was in charge, back in the glory days. Of the humans he did see, some were coming to tend the other boards with pictures on. Others came and wept at certain spots.

They seemed quite a weak sentimental and pathetic race to Meetal. To Meetal, death was always just around the corner, especially for Kobolds. They would do one bit of weeping and wailing and then move on, they had to, for kobolds were not very popular, having a reputation of being creatures of the dark, and therefore by definition, evil. A little unfair Meetal always thought, even goblins had a better reputation. Kobolds therefore had no time to dwell on the death of family members or friends; it served no purpose and could be a dangerous distraction.

And yet as Meetal watched the occasional human, or as he passed other boards with pictures on, he was constantly reminded, that all the sorrow and grief these humans were suffering, was caused by those from Meetal’s world and he felt ashamed, which was not characteristic of a kobold.

The smell of death was still present in the air, well to Meetal with his heightened sense of smell it was.

Meetal thought back to the start of the civil war, if only those infernal orcs and those treacherous trolls had not got rid of his master then none of this would have happened. Did those who committed this atrocity against the Realm of Mortals not take thought to how this could reform their world? His master clamped down on those who would interfere with the affairs of mortals for a reason, the protection of his world should such interference cause a cataclysmic feedback.

Again Meetal has a job to do. Meetal must not live in the past

Suddenly a scent wafted across his nose, forcing Meetal to locate a hiding place. It was a scent not out of place on his world, but like the earlier drow teleporting in, definitely not of this world.

Meetal watched in fascination as four Ghetto trolls and one bugbear dragged a young female into the middle of the street.

The bugbear was carrying a rope with a noose at one end.

The bugbear faced the human female and then in the tongue known as English spoke to the human telling her how she had been found in an unauthorised part of the fallen city after curfew.

The young woman pleaded that she had not known of any curfew and had come to Washington DC try and find her brother, who had been missing since the first of the firestorms visited on this world.

The bugbear did not flinch or show any pity, she had broken the curfew and must die.

The woman’s hands were tied behind her back and the bugbear threw part of the rope over what looked to Meetal to be a sign post of some description. Then he took the noose and placed it over the woman’s head and made sure it was firm around her neck. All the while the woman was crying and pleading for her life, but to no avail.

Then one of the trolls pulled the rope so the woman was hanging by her neck with her feet about half Meetal’s height above the ground.

Four trolls and a bugbear executing a young female human, “My” Meetal thought, “Even in our day there was never any need for that” He had watched plenty of executions in the past. Some of them, his sneakiness had brought about, but for just arriving at this city at a certain time even to Meetal seemed excessive.

The sound of the female human throttling cut Meetal through like a knife, but why? He had witnessed plenty of executions like this on his world, but they were of criminals, rebels and those who would stop his master doing what needed to be done. This woman was not guilty of a crime deserving death.

The trolls tied off the rope and then stood guard to make sure nobody recued the woman and that her execution was complete. Even with invisibility, Meetal had no means to rescue her, so he had to watch as the woman kicked her feet in the air until she stopped. The trolls continued to wait with the bugbear standing impassively for quite an age. Then the bugbear looking at what could be an amulet announced that the woman was dead and that they would leave her body hanging as a deterrent to others and a show of force.

It was obvious that the Lady High Troll was trying to out do what some slanderously said of his master the Lord Low Troll.

Meetal waited an age, watching the body of the young woman twist in the wind, until he could be certain that the troll patrol had gone. Then Meetal came out of hiding and slunk away. How many executed humans would he come across he wondered.

The death of that woman brought home to him the urgency of his mission, the sooner he found this Mr Vee and the sooner they did what ever deal his master had in mind, then the sooner these executions would be stopped.

Oh and the sooner he could return to his world

Meetal pressed on, heading as best he could in the West of North Easterly direction, but still no sign of Mr Vee. He only knew he was alive because the talisman said he was.

Maybe he is in another city, Meetal started to wonder and to fear. On his little legs, it would take ages to find him.

“Oi you” a voice suddenly behind him shouted.

Meetal froze, there was the sound of metal on metal

“Yes you Kobold” the voice came again with a sneer

“You idiot” Meetal thought as he realised he was not invisible as he should have been, “I forgot to secure the clock of invisibility after I saw that”

Then Meetal stopped and realised something even more horrendous. They knew he was a kobold. He must have been caught by a patrol. Slowly Meetal turned around, expecting to see a drow, bugbear or a troll of the Ghetto clan, but instead there were two men armed with “metal tubes that spit death” pointing at him.

Between them stepped to Meetal’s utter horror, one of the kobold’s sworn enemies, a fully armoured gnome

“So” the gnome sneered, “I never thought I would live to see justice deliver into my hands such a wretched creature like you”

Meetal was speechless

“This is a good day” the gnome continued, “Not just any stinking kobold delivered into my hands, but Meetal of the Jarran tribe, the stinking kobold that helped that other tyrant the Lord Low Troll stay in power for so long”

“What shall we do with it” one of the men asked

The gnome narrowed his eyes, “I say we kill him now, as most likely he is working that long dead tyrant’s daughter, the Lady High troll”

To be continued