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A Chance Encounter	By : Revenant Category: +A through F > Dungeons & Dragons Views: 5024 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Dungeons & Dragons or Forgotten Realms. All original characters belong to me. I make no money from the writing of this story.

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The morning was windy, wisps of clouds gathering into cotton puffs. William rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his shoulder groaning in protest. It used to be a single healing potion was enough, but these days he needed more. Ignoring it, he began preparing breakfast. Kelrynn stirred, then sat up, yawning.
“Good morning!” she said. It was cheerful for a kobold. Yawning again, she started stretching, her bones cracking and popping. William watched her bend and flex.
“You’re limber,” he said.
She grinned. “Watch this.” She bent forward and stuck her head between her legs.
He winced. “Is that normal for kobolds?” Part of him was curious. Despite his encounters with the creatures, he knew little about them.
“Sometimes we need to go through tight spaces. I think I’m more flexible than most,” she said. Picking up her satchel, she began searching it, pulling out rings and trying them on, grunting when they didn’t fit.
“No good?” William asked.
“What good is jewelry you can’t wear?”
“You’ve still got quite a haul.”
She snorted. “Few will sell things to kobolds. Food and drink, maybe.”
“Don’t you have a nest to take it back to?”
Kelrynn shot him a look that could melt steel. It was the first time he had seen her angry. “No,” she said. She turned her back to him.
Good job, idiot, he thought.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. Kelrynn picked through small stones, using them to scrape her teeth and claws. William packed everything and they set off. The kobold was unusually languid, staring at the ground at they traveled.
William spoke. “I apologize for offending you. I didn’t know it was an ugly subject.”
Kelrynn shook her head. “It’s fine. Another long story.”
He was silent for a while. Then: “Perhaps we could swap stories over drinks.”
She stared at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”
“Just interested.”
“No one is ‘just interested’ in a kobold. What are you after, human?” Her voice had taken an edge. “It’s not my treasure, is it?”
William pulled Mirabelle to a stop, then turned in the saddle to look at Kelrynn. Her body was tense, her hands clutched at her satchel like it was an egg she had laid that morning.
“Kelrynn,” he said, “I promise I won’t take your things. I’m not like that.”
She blinked a few times, then relaxed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do that.”
“It’s fine. I know kobolds aren’t the most well-treated.”
She snorted again. “Kobolds are seen as weak and ugly. Pests and tricksters. We are related to dragons, but we’re treated like goblins! Pah!” She spat on the ground.
“I won’t do that,” he said.
Kelrynn sighed. “Sorry. Again. I’m not used to this.”
William decided not to say anything else. He had offended her enough. Mirabelle resumed walking.
A few minutes passed. Kelrynn watched the sky. Then she said, “I know a good joke. One of my broodmates used to tell it.”
“Let’s hear it.”
She cleared her throat. “What do you call ten thousand dead pixies? A good start!”
He didn’t laugh. “That’s considered a good joke?”
“Maybe you have a bad sense of humor,” she said, poking him in the shoulder.
“Maybe.”
###
The day went on. Kelrynn attempted a few more jokes (all centered around maiming and killing other tiny creatures), then stopped. William attempted a few of his own (all centered around genitalia and bodily functions), then he stopped too. The pair sat in silence as the minutes turned to hours. William’s mind itched -- it was a feeling he got when he tried to solve a puzzle. Judging by her reaction, there were two possibilities: he was right and she was an exile, or her tribe had been wiped out. She was calmer and more inquisitive than any kobold he’d met, but then again, those encounters consisted of swordplay and frenzied yapping.
Why do you care?
The thought sat there like a lump of ogre shit. It echoed Kelrynn’s words. Why did he care? She was a unique kobold, better spoken and better looking (he admitted) than most. So what? The deal was to take her to Daggerford. That was it. He had a schedule to keep and didn’t have time to get involved in other things.
He swore, at least, to treat her to a drink. Maybe two. Then he’d say goodbye.
Time passed. The shadows shortened and lengthened. In the distance, William could see the outline of a town: Daggerford. For the first time in a while, he felt relief. Finally, he could sleep in a warm bed, eat fresh food and drink quality beer. Hopefully, no one would balk at Kelrynn being in town. He could spare a few coins, if it came to bribery.
As they approached, Kelrynn’s tail started twitching in the way it did when something grabbed her interest.
“Contain yourself,” he said. “I don’t think they would appreciate a kobold running around, looking at everything.”
“Right. No problem,” she said, in a way that indicated there would, in fact, be a problem.
The stench of a tannery wafted through the air, piss and dung mixed with rancid fat and rotted flesh. Kelrynn gagged and wrapped her scarf over her face while William coaxed Mirabelle to pick up the pace. They crossed the bridge over the Delimbiyr River as the winds shifted, giving them blessed relief.
“Gods bless the tanners,” said William, breathing deeply, “they suffer to make our lives better.”
“What about my suffering?” said Kelrynn, gagging again.
Daggerford hunkered to the east. The pair traversed the stone bridge over the shallow moat and rode through the massive gate. The guards gave Kelrynn a quizzical look, but said nothing. So far, so good, William thought.
Despite its ramshackle appearance, Daggerford had a charm that was lacking in backwaters like Rugar. The marketplace to the north was still bustling, with townsfolk weaving through the streets or conversing about the latest harvest.
William left Mirabelle hitched by the gate and made his way through town, Kelrynn close by his side. The kobold was caught between her curiosity and her instinct to flee, tensing when someone wandered near.
“Stay calm,” he said. “They haven’t hurled rotten food at us yet.”
“They tolerate me because they think you are my master,” she replied.
“Who cares what they think? Ignore them.”
“Easy for you to say. You are human.”
The kept walking, between the buildings, heading north.
“Where are we going?” asked Kelrynn.
“Tavern. Hopefully it’s still there,” said William.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Once. Over a year ago.”
Rounding the corner, he found it: a quaint, homey alehouse. The simple sign hanging outside read:
THE HAPPY COW
“Thank Tymora for big favors,” he said.
Kelrynn stared at him. “What’s special about here?”
“Obviously, you’ve never had the beer or the cheese.” He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The interior was warm and cozy, filled with the low hum of conversation. Kelrynn was stuck to him like a tattoo. The two approached a halfling behind the bar.
“Koggin Hardcheese, at your service,” said the halfling. His face wrinkled in confusion. “Have we met before?”
“You hired me last Flamerule to clear your farms of sprites,” said William.
Kelrynn looked at him with admiration. “You killed sprites?”
“No, I convinced them to leave,” he said.
Her face fell. “Oh.”
The halfling burst with recognition. “Ah, right! A fine job you did, too. Walder, was it?”
“William,” said William. A long time ago, the mistake would have stung, but he was used to it now.
“Right, William. What can I do for you?”
He placed a few silvers on the bar. “Two pints. Some slices of farmer’s cheese.”
Koggin looked at Kelrynn. “Normally, we don’t get kobolds in here…” He eyed the silver pieces. “… but if it’s with you, I suppose it’s fine.”
William nodded and headed for the nearest table. As he sat down, Kelrynn climbed onto the chair across from him, still agitated.
“Kelrynn,” he said, “most of these people are farmers. There are two things they care about: when it rains, and when it doesn’t. Kobolds are a distant third.”
Kelrynn looked around. A few of the patrons stared at her, but returned to their conversations after the shock wore off. She took a deep breath and relaxed.
“I’m used to torches and pitchforks,” she said.
Koggin ambled to the table, placing two foaming mugs of ale and a plate of sliced cheese.
“Enjoy,” he said, nodding. He went back to the bar.
William grabbed a mug and poured the beer down his throat. Fruity, with a hint of honey. Kelrynn watched, then drank. She licked her lips.
“Tasty!”
William nodded, then helped himself to some cheese. He savored its creamy, buttery texture, then reached for more, to discover Kelrynn had devoured the rest.
“Thorry,” she said, her cheeks bulging.
Returning to his ale, William ran a finger around the lip of the mug. Now that he had her sitting down, maybe he could get more information. He weighed how to broach the subject.
“So… what’s your story?”
Not the smoothest approach, but it was direct. She took a few more swigs, then put down her beer.
“You first,” she said.
He hadn’t expected that. He tossed around a few ideas: insisting she begin, or saying his life wasn’t interesting. She’d probably balk at both of those. Sighing, he took a long drink.
“Let’s say you grow up in a small village where the most you can hope for in life is being the blacksmith,” he began. “That’s fine for most people, but you’re different. You’ve got an insatiable wanderlust. You want to see what’s beyond the mountains and the horizon. You want your name to be etched into history alongside Bruenor Battlehammer and Halueth Never. That’s not going to happen in a town nestled near the Spine of the World.
“So you learn to fight. To survive. You go out and see places and creatures you’ve only heard about from the odd traveling merchant. The Forest of Wyrms. The burial mounds at the Evermoors. The endless green sea of the Giant’s Plain. You make your way as a sellsword and spend your coin on women and wine. You’re destined for greatness.”
He stopped, taking another long drink. “One day, you wake up and realize you’re getting slower. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. The lines in your face are deeper. And you also realize life isn’t turning out the way you thought it would. You’re not slaying dragons or exploring the tomb of an ancient king. You’re killing third-rate hoodlums and clearing a mine of angry kobolds. No offense.”
Kelrynn waved a hand.
“Despite all your efforts, you’re not famous. You haven’t changed the world. In spite of all your efforts, all the risks you took, all you’ve lost, you really…” William stopped again, this time drinking the rest of the beer in a single go. He stared at the bottom of the empty mug for what seemed like minutes.
“You really have nothing,” he said. He motioned to Koggin for a refill.
Kelrynn stared at him. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” he echoed.
“How? You have a horse, a sword --”
He interrupted. “Mirabelle’s a loyal companion. Wouldn’t give her up for anything. Terrible at conversation.”
“Why don’t you join someone?”
“Traveled with someone a long time ago. I don’t anymore.”
“Why not?”
William swallowed. “Don’t want to talk about that.”
Kelrynn nodded, then finished her drink. She waved at Koggin for another. “Why do you keep doing it?”
“What, being a sellsword?” said William. “I don’t know how to do much else.”
Koggin came by with new mugs. The two of them thrust their faces into the new ale.
“Truth be told,” said William, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I think of settling down, sometimes. Maybe I could marry a rich heiress.” He shook his head. “Then again, they aren’t the type to go for old ex-adventurers.”
“You don’t look that old,” said Kelrynn.
He chuckled. “I am for my profession. If you follow my lifestyle and you reach my age, you either played it safe or were lucky. I played it safe. As for luck… “ He held up his amulet.
“You told me earlier you didn’t think you were lucky. Why?”
William’s face soured. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“That’s why they call me ‘the Curious,’” she said.
“I see,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, all my good luck has to come at someone else’s expense. All the bad luck I should have had goes to others. Universe has to be balanced. Not saying anything more.”
Kelrynn saw she struck a sore spot. “Where are you going?”
“Neverwinter,” said William. “I’ve been nostalgic for the north. Think I’m going to make an important decision there.”
“What’s that?”
A beat. “If I’m going to settle down or not.”
She thought for a while, sipping her beer. “You don’t need to settle down. Marry someone who will travel with you.”
He smiled. “Not many women want to spend their lives on the road,” said William, putting the mug to his lips.
“Or maybe you are bad with them,” said Kelrynn, smirking.
William coughed into his drink, the alcohol burning his nose. “What! I’ll have to know I’ve been with plenty of women! Women love me for three reasons: I’m humble and I’m charming.”
Kelrynn waited. When William didn’t continue, she raised an eye ridge. “That’s two.”
“What?”
“You said three reasons. That’s two.”
“Never mind that. I meant two.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
William groaned. “Look, I’ve answered your questions and told you my story. Now you tell me about yourself.”
Kelrynn was silent. Then she nodded. “Alright then.” It was her turn to drink.
###
She had been a bad kobold since she was hatched. At least, that’s what the elders told her. Kobolds mined. Kobolds made traps. Kobolds hated the light. Kobolds were happy to be separate. Kobolds did not ask about the surface, or other races, or other gods. Kobolds did not think so hard. Yet she did this, so she was a bad kobold.
Cursed, they said. Cursed by curiosity.
She couldn’t help it. There was a flame inside her, one that flared up with each discovery. In the beginning, it was good. She’d poke and prod at crevices, feel the striations on every new rock she found, smash the walls with a pick just to hear the echo -- made her a good worker. There were few better at finding ore veins. After years of that, she was bored. She knew of kobolds who traveled to the surface. She wanted to know what it was like. When she asked, the elders told her it was no concern. She was a worker, not a warrior. Naturally, she began to explore for ways out. She became good at climbing walls, jumping gaps, and squeezing through small tunnels. That made her a better worker. Her broodmates were proud.
One day, she found herself in a tunnel that led to the surface. She didn’t know it at first, except for a slight burning sensation in her eyes. The further she went, the more the pain grew. Vision blurring, dawning realization: light. She would came back when the light was gone.
The tunnel led to a forest. The new sensations were overwhelming: the whistle of the wind, the smell of wildflowers and wet bark, the soft floor of mud under her feet. She spent hours touching, smelling, even tasting everything. Some of it was pleasurable (grass, mushrooms), some of it not (feces, porcupines). Eventually, the burning in her eyes returned, heralding the coming of the light. She retreated back to the tunnel.
She would go back, of course. Try and stay a little longer each time. As time passed, she found she could last until the sun was above the horizon. She started seeing colors. At that point, she vowed she would see the surface in full daylight. So she stayed longer and longer. And then, she saw them. Green, blue, yellow, brown, pink, purple, red -- all this and more. She was ecstatic.
She was ecstatic and her darkvision was ruined. She couldn’t work. She told them everything. She had to.
The All-Watcher was furious. He gathered the tribe. This is a bad kobold, he said, pointing to her. Cursed by curiosity. She pleaded for mercy, but even her broodmates turned their backs to her. She was offered a choice: death or exile. Naturally, she chose exile. They led her to the surface in the dead of night and left her there, collapsing the tunnel behind her. She spent hours crawling in the dark until dawn.
Her first years on the surface was a blur of survival by instinct and constant movement. She hid from travelers because she didn’t speak Common, though she did learn some words through eavesdropping: hello, goodbye, yes, no, fuck, shit, prick. One time she tried communicating with a merchant and was chased off.
She found a town and tried getting help (sticking with sign language), but they didn’t understand her. Some tried to hurt her. The next town, she stayed quiet, so they ignored her mostly. The town after that, she kept to the shadows, so they ignored her completely. After that, she would visit the towns at night, sticking her face to windows, admiring jewelry, casks of ale, wheels of aging cheese. At first, she only looked. But then she wanted more. Her agility and small size let her enter spaces most would ignore, like an open second-floor window. The first few times she made noise and had to leave, but soon she could enter and exit buildings like a silent breeze.
She would eat the food, drink the beer and try on the jewelry (nothing ever fit, damn the gods), then leave, belly full and curiosity sated. In the mornings, the villagers would find missing food, open barrels, and scattered jewelry (none of it missing, strangely).
She found a bookshop in one settlement. One book interested her the most because there was a picture of a dragon on the cover. Kobolds worshipped dragons, after all. She took it and tried to read, but the words were gibberish. She was more interested in the pictures, anyway: illustrations of chromatic and metallic dragons, every scale detailed lovingly. She kept the book, hiding it in a hollow tree stump outside town. Every night she went back, grabbing more and more books. Then the owner locked his windows, but that didn’t stop her. She learned to pick the locks. It took her a long time, but she was a hard worker.
She took more, read more. One book was a primer on Common. Now, she could read. But she couldn’t talk, so she listened. She listened to children learning to speak, and to everyday conversations. She imitated the sounds she heard, tried to recite words from memory. After many days (weeks? months?) of practice, she could string together simple sentences. Talking to humans was no different because they still shunned her. Then they found her tree stump of books, so she had to leave.
She met a man. His name was Erik. He was nice, so she talked to him. He was also a rogue. He learned she was good at sneaking, so he took her under his wing. He taught her how to fight, how to speak, how to pick sturdier locks, how to cut purses, how to spot valuable targets. They worked together for some time. No big scores, but enough to survive.
That changed when they decided to steal from the manor of a lord. They mapped the layout of the grounds, the guard patrols, they wrote down time tables, they bought extra equipment, trained extra hard. In hindsight, it was wasted: the guards were drunk and the locks were cheap. Still, they managed to fill several sacks with gems, gold and antiques. They celebrated after they escaped, and Erik swore he’d treat her to something special.
He was gone the next morning, of course. He left her a letter. Said she’d understand. She was only a kobold. What would she do with all that wealth?
She would travel alone after that, for years to come. She relied on herself. She didn’t need humans -- until one night in a nowhere town near the High Moor.
###
William leaned back in his chair. “You’ve really been through all that?”
Kelrynn nodded. Her mug was almost empty.
“I can’t believe your tribe would exile you for going to the surface,” he said.
“Don’ wanna talk ‘bout it,” she said. Her speech was slipping.
“Fair enough. Anything interesting about surface dwellers?”
She squinted, deep in thought. “Humans different. You see kobold, elf, dwarf, can assume things, probably true.”
“What?”
“You assume kobold love mining, elf love wood, dwarf love bashing heads. Probably true. Hard to assume with humans. Many assholes. Some not.”
“I see,” he said.
She thought again. “Strange mating rituals.”
William froze, mug in midair. “What?”
“Yes! I not understand. Why you do this to each other?” She puckered her lips, kissing the air. Then she stuck out her long tongue and started licking, making loud slurping sounds.
“Uh…” said William. The other patrons were staring.
“Kobold never do that. Kobold mating very un-personal. In and out. Like going to healer. Also, why put mouths on Jenny tails? Dirty. Another thing!” She was standing on her chair now. “Man’s Jenny tails outside!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying to look nonchalant.
She huffed. “Yes you do! Jenny tails! Pike and balls! Rod and tackle! Pillock and plums!”
He grabbed her mug. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“No! Mine!” she hissed, and wrestled it away. She threw back her head and drained the mug instantly. She belched. Someone cheered.
Koggin walked up. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask the kobold to leave.”
Kelrynn spat on the floor. “Plow yourself, halfling.” She jumped off the chair and ran out, slamming the door behind her.
“Sorry about that,” said William, placing a few more silvers on the table. “Excellent beer, excellent food. Keep up the good work.” He got up and half-walked, half-ran out the door.
It was night. Where the hells did the time go? he thought. The streets were lit by braziers, but Kelrynn was nowhere in sight.
“Kelrynn!” he called. No answer. He waited a few minutes, hoping she would return, but she didn’t.
He sighed. He didn’t want to part this way. He had hoped for a handshake. Now, she was gone, and she was bitter.
He walked back to the gate where Mirabelle waited. Tonight, he’d drop her off at the stables, then find an inn. Tomorrow, he’d restock and set off for Waterdeep.
Thankfully, the stable master was still awake. A few silvers for the inconvenience of housing her at a late hour, then he left for the Dragonback Inn, across from the Happy Cow. As he passed an alleyway, he heard a voice.
“Been looking for someone like you,” it said. William stopped and peered down the passage. A stout fellow was talking to a familiar-looking kobold.
“Busy. No talk,” said Kelrynn.
“Afraid it doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me, or I’m taking your head.”
“Go plow mother,” she said.
The man frowned. “I was hoping we could do this easy. Looks I’m gonna have to --” He was cut short by Kelrynn hurling a dagger into his throat, collapsing like a sack of furs.
“You fight bad. Like wyrmling,” said Kelrynn, pulling out the dagger.
“Kelrynn,” said William, walking towards her.
“Will!” she said. “I kill man. He bother me.”
“I see that,” he said, searching the thug’s body. Nothing much, save for a few knives, some coppers, and a parchment. Unrolling it, William saw the words:
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
FOR BURGLARY AND ASSAULT
Female kobold, bluish-green scales, orange eyes
Roughly four feet high
Bring proof of capture or death to Sir Roderick of Rugar
LARGE REWARD
There was a drawing too. Crude, but it was definitely Kelrynn.
“Shit,” he said. Hopefully there weren’t many of these floating around. Could make traveling difficult.
Kelrynn leaned forward and vomited. “Sorry,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” said William, trying not to make a face.
“I go now, if you want.”
He weighed his options. “No, stay with me,” he said. “We’ll find someplace to sleep and leave tomorrow.”
“You too nice,” she said.
“No, I’m stupid. Come on.” He dragged her to the Dragonback, a large wood and stone building. The owner was reluctant to rent him a room, but William threw a few silvers at him and promised Kelrynn would sleep on the floor.
The room was small and simple. Kelrynn staggered in and fell onto the straw mattress.
“Sleep now. Night-night.”
“Hang on, I’m sleeping there,” said William. She snored back at him.
I’ve lost my mind, he thought. Taking a lit candle off a nearby table, he removed his cloak and spread it on the floor. He’d slept on worse surfaces.
Praying to Tymora that tomorrow would bring a sober kobold, he blew out the candle.
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