You look around the cell to take stock of your situation. You’ve lost your sword. You think one of the rat-like kobolds picked it up after you were bound and marched off but there’s no sign of it now. At least you still seem to have your food supplies.
Your arms are still bound. The rope that the kobolds had used looks old and worn. Squeezing one of the more patchy parts of the rope between your body and one of the bars of the cell you’re able to trap it and create some friction by rubbing up and down. It takes very little time before the rope loosens. It doesn’t break but a bunch of the fibres tear, the tension drops and you’re able to wiggle your hands out. The loop of rope drops to the cell ground by your feet.
You’re not tired any more. This has happened to you before – when you need to be alert and energetic you’ve always found you can rely on your adrenaline to kick in.
With your newly restored energy you hunt around the small cell. There’s nothing under the flap of animal hide in the back corner. There’s nothing hidden in the thick knots of sturdy rope that fastens the corner of the crude cage together. There’s nothing you can reach on the roof of the cage by sticking your arm through the bars and feeling around with your fingers.
There’s nothing.
Nothing to do but wait.
That wait doesn’t last for long.
You hear them first. The now familiar chattering of kobolds echoes down the dark tunnel leading to the sub-cavern that forms the bulk of your cell. And sure enough, in just a minute or so a half dozen or so kobolds are standing in front of your cell bars.
The first kobold to return looks different. It looks older, is dressed in bright red rags and wears a feathered head dress. This kobold holds a gnarly staff which it points at you and chitters often to the others.
The other kobolds are clearly all warriors of the clan. They are fairly large for kobolds, dressed in nothing but tiny loincloths, wiry muscles and each with a predatory glint in their eye.
These five warriors parade in front of your cell. Eyes trained on you. The feathered head dress kobold squawks again, jabbing his staff at you once more. They seem to be waiting for something. |