Dungeon Life

Lechula

In the recovery ward of the kobold enclave, rests the female pale dwarf, and she’s not especially happy about it. That last combined attack still sticks in her mind, right alongside Master Harbinger’s admonishment. Her hands worry her beard, braiding and weaving it as she wrestles with what happened.

The attack itself was perfect, at least as far as she can tell. She’s pretty sure they could have handled half a dozen least with that move! Six felled quickly with the combined effort of three is efficient… right? She’s less certain now. Glancing over at her friend on the bed beside her reaffirms her doubts. Merrik is always prickly, but he’s been trying to take this particular wound in stride. Lechula doesn’t know if he’s distancing himself from her, or if he’s trying to support her in his own way.

It’s one thing when her actions land herself in the healing ward. She’s been training to be a Shieldbearer since she was strong enough to pick one up, so she’s used to taking painful blows, and sometimes learning the hard way how to properly angle her shield to deflect, rather than absorb a hit. Merrik, though… he’s a proper Steelmage. He’s not supposed to have to suffer a broken shoulder to learn a point.

His situation isn’t the only unfortunate bit of reality she’s having to cope with. While she’s been to the ward before, it was in times of peace, where the kobolds could tend her quickly and send her on her way. They might leave something not-quite-fully-healed as a bit of a reminder, but she’d still be in and out in a matter of hours, eager to return to training and to not make the same mistake.

But talking with Master Harbinger for so long has made her suffer bouts of dizziness that the kobolds can’t just fix with a simple healing spell. While they’re confident it will pass, she’s in no condition to do much besides sit on her bed and worry her beard into knots. She sighs and starts untying the mess she’s made. She almost tears her beard clean off when Merrik speaks up.

“Are you alright?”

“Ow!” She releases her beard and rubs her neck and chin as Merrik chortles. It’s actually a bit of a relief that his prickly attitude seems to be coming back. “I thought you were sleeping! You startled me!”

“I think maybe you needed startling. You’ve been staring at nothing for a while and tangling your beard the entire time. I’d call it a lost cause and say you should just shave it and start over, but you’re stubborn about it.”

“Of course I’m stubborn about it! It’s my beard!” She glares at him, but that smirk tells her that’s exactly what he wants. She takes a deep breath and tries to release some of the tension, but it’s not that easy. “Besides, shouldn’t I be asking if you’re alright? I’m just a bit dizzy, but you can barely move your arm!”

He unintentionally proves her point with half a shrug. “The kobolds keep saying it’ll just take a bit longer to fix than most. I’m almost relieved, knowing it hurt that badly for a reason.” Lechula looks away at that, and he adopts a small frown when he notices. “It’s not your fault.”

Her gaze returns to him in a hard glare. “I’m pretty sure it is.”

His frown deepens for a moment before he smirks and concedes the point. “But you still shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“Then who should I blame?” she asks, dangerously close to a whine. Merrik briefly considers a few jabs, but swallows them before speaking.

“Nobody. As a caster, I should be on the lookout for ranged attacks like that, as should Jayle. He didn’t protect me with his support magic, I didn’t protect me with my magic. By the Maw, Dergol let himself be disarmed! There were mistakes all around, so don’t go hogging all the blame.” He pauses and smirks. “You can have a second helping of it, if you insist, but that’s it.”

“But I dragged you all into that combination attack!”

“You can’t force a combination attack, you know that. We might have had our doubts, but we could each feel the shape it would take, and we added our efforts to it.”

She folds her arms and sighs as she leans back against the wall, her beard still a tangled mess. “I know, but… it’s my job to take the punishment, take the pain, so you guys don’t have to. Bruises and scrapes happen, but…”

“Not shattered shoulders?” She winces when he finishes the thought out loud for her, but doesn’t argue with him, so he continues. “In a real battle, they do. We have to be prepared for that… and for worse. You heard what happened to the first batch Master Harbinger was supposed to train, right?”

Lechula suppresses a shudder at the reminder of the rumors, and she can see Merrik’s lips tighten at the idea as well. Before she can try to reply, though, a kobold enters their shared room, and reminds Lechula of what else has been bothering her.

The kobold is a male and wears simple clothes. They’re not torn nor threadbare, but nothing elaborate. In contrast, the chains and manacles stand out all the more. They’re not the thick steel and heavy iron designed to physically restrain someone. No, these are thin and made of silver, or at least silver engraved. At first glance, they could almost be taken as elaborate jewelry as a thin chain connects the wrist manacle to one near the elbow, then to one near the shoulder, then to the neck. From the neck, thin silver chains connect to a band just under the ribs, then down to the hips, where the linkages at the arms are mirrored with the legs, connecting to bands at the knees and the odd ankle joint the kobolds have.

It’s the traditional garb worn by the kobolds, a sign that they are claimed by the Great Maw. While it looks beautiful at first glance, Lechula can never shake the feeling that the kobolds are just wearing a cage. She’d never dare speak that thought aloud, though, and especially not with one in the room. Her convoluted thoughts are interrupted when the kobold speaks a second time.

“Miss Lechula? Is the dizziness getting worse?”

“Huh? Oh, no, sorry! I was just… distracted.”

The kobold simply nods. “Then please stand and lift one foot.”

She gets out of bed and obeys, and is relieved to be able to stand without much difficulty. “Squat down and quickly stand, then lift the other foot please.”

She has a bit of dizziness from that, but the kobold keeps a neutral, clinical expression. He runs her through a few more movements before bidding her return to the bed. “You’re improving, miss, but I think it will still be a day or two before I can clear you to return to your duties.” She nods at that as he turns to Merrik. “Now, this will probably be sore, but please try not to move too much.”

The pale elf grunts as the kobold pokes and prods at the shoulder for a few minutes. “It seems to be healing well. By tomorrow, I think we can remove the sling, and test your range of movement. If you need anything before then, please ring the bell. Oh, I’m told there will be cheese delivered to the patients soon. It’s supposed to be very good, the maker is supposed to be favored by the clergy.”

Neither Lechula nor Merrik have anything else they need to say, and as the kobold turns to leave, her eyes trail the chains as she sees they continue down the tail, too. Once he’s gone, she glances towards Merrik, and sees his eyes on her, and a small frown on his face.

“Ah.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “What do you mean, ‘ah’?!”

He gives her a measured look before responding. “Well, either you were enjoying the view, or my shoulder isn’t the only reason your beard is tied in knots.” She blushes and sputters at both implications, not sure which she should try to deny, but his wry smirk keeps her from saying anything coherent.

“It’s not something I’ve had to think about before, either… but something I find myself returning to, with not much else to do in the healing ward than think and heal.” He doesn't elaborate, and Lechula is thankful for that. While she’s glad she’s not the only one who feels like they’re actually seeing the kobolds for the first time, it’s also difficult to come to terms with what she’s actually seeing.

She almost wishes he hadn’t said anything. It’d be easier to pretend nothing is wrong if he hadn’t. Her friend soon gets comfortable and takes another nap, resting to let the healing magic work without him interfering, and she takes the chance to untangle her beard. Talking has calmed her some, but the kobolds stick in her mind. She’s not the only one who feels something is off. If it was just her, she could ignore it, but with Merrik… she shoves the thoughts aside for now, not wanting to tie her beard into knots again.

By the time she gets it untangled and starts brushing her beard and hair, another dwarf pulls a hand cart up outside the room, and comes inside with a covered basket.

“Let me see… two? No cheese allergies, I hope?” he asks with a smile, radiating a casual uncle kind of feeling. Lechula smiles and shakes her head.

“No, thank the Maw. Is that the cheese the kobold said would be delivered?”

“Yes it is! Mild and soft, but not soft enough to be spread. The cheesers even got special molds made. Look!” He pulls out two things from the basket, but it doesn’t look like small wheels to Lechula. Instead, they look like kobolds! One is sitting while the other looks to be sleeping, each looking peaceful even with the chains adorning them, the features easily recognizable in the protective wax coating.

“That’s…” she starts, uncertain how to describe her feeling. Thankfully, the deliverer is happy to finish for her.

“Amazing, right? This is just a bit of a test batch, but if these do well, I’m told he’s going to sell them as well as donate some to places like the healing ward and orphanage and such! It’ll be a great way to give us all just a taste of how important the kobolds are to the Great Maw!”

She forces a smile and nods at that, and accepts the sitting kobold from him, and looks at the little cheese figurine as he sets the other on the table near Merrik. She is a bit hungry, so she peels the back off, and easily extracts the cheese, looking at the kobold one more time.

While it looked peaceful and maybe a little happy in the wax, the cheese one somehow looks a little sad. Maybe it’s just her own thoughts. She goes to take a bite, but something just seems wrong about eating the little cheese kobold, like biting its head off is a bit too close to what really happens to them. She tries to give her little cheese kobold mercy and stuffs the whole thing in her mouth at once.

It really is a nice cheese, perfect for snacking on its own. Is that how the Maw sees them? As she chews, both the cheese and her thoughts, Merrik’s words echo in her head, about how he’s also thinking about the kobolds. She can’t help but come to a decision as she finishes the cheese: no matter how tasty, should even the Maw get to eat people?

Maybe she can ask Merrik once they’re both healed. They should start working on patrols and other training outside of the Maw soon. If there’s anywhere she can ask a question like that, it’d be somewhere out in the tunnels.