Downfall

"So feel free to thank us," Rikali taunted. She dug the tip of her boot into the gravelly ground and stirred it up. "Indeed, we…" She stopped as she spotted a flash of gold peeking out beneath the sleeve of one Ergothian, and she slipped closer to examine it. In a heartbeat, the once-seemingly acquiescent man darted forward and managed to grab her, spinning her toward him and snatching the knife from her grip. He was surprisingly strong. He shoved the blade under her throat. "Stay still!" he barked to Maldred.

"Let her go!" the big man snapped. "Now!"

"Not all merchants are easy marks!" The Ergothian returned. "We don't all give up our goods to brigands!" His companion reached under his shirt and pulled two wavy-edged daggers from hidden sheaths. "We heard about robberies along the trails, and we came well prepared. Now you back away! And you drop your weapons."

Maldred and Dhamon didn't budge. Neither made a move to surrender their weapons.

"If you kill her," Dhamon said flatly, "that'll just mean fewer ways to divide the spoils." He noted Rikali's outraged expression but kept his blank face. "Besides, she complains a lot. And we could do with a bit of blessed silence."

After what seemed like several long minutes, where the only sound was the wind rustling through the pass, Dhamon rolled his shoulders, a signal to Maldred that he had sized up the Ergothians and was ready.

Maldred took a step closer to the two Ergothians, watching the other merchants out of the corner of his eye. "You'll be dead before you can cut her throat," he stated. "I'm faster than you. And I'd really prefer not to kill you. Certainly you have relatives somewhere who would prefer you stay alive. So why not drop the blades? You'll live to see tomorrow."

The Ergothians held their position for a heartbeat, then Dhamon flinched, forcing their hand. The one with the twin daggers lunged. Maldred effortlessly swept his sword up, slicing through the man's right arm. The limb fell to the ground, and the Ergothian dropped to his knees, screaming and holding the stump while blood sprayed the horrified merchants.

At the same time, his companion pressed the knife into Rikali's throat, but the half-elf was quicker. Before the Ergothian could cut her, Riki's hands shot up to grip his arm. Throwing all of her strength and weight against it, she pried his arm back. The half-elf scrambled away just as Dhamon stepped forward and swung his sword, cutting deep beneath the man's ribs and killing him instantly.

The portly woman shrieked in terror. The boy sprang into action, his feet churning over the gravel until he was close to Maldred. He launched himself at the big man's back and grabbed hold of him by wrapping his arms around Maldred's thick neck. His grandfather moaned with fear. Rikali spun back to the corpse, plucked the gold bracer off its wrist and fitted it high on her arm. Then she retrieved her knife.

Dhamon held his bloodied sword out, directing the rest of the merchants to stay in line or they'd be next to die. "I'm not as charitable as my large friend," he hissed. "I've no qualms about killing any of you."

Everyone nervously complied, their eyes locked on the scene playing out before them, the old man begging for his grandson's life. The youth's arms were wrapped around Maldred's neck, his knees pummeling the big man's back. But Maldred seemed unaffected.

Rikali slipped behind the pair and pried the youth off, tossing him to the ground and grinding her boot heel into his stomach. "I'd hate to see Maldred kill you, boy," she hissed, waving her knife for emphasis. "He'd keep us up for days fretting about it, moaning about how sacred life is and all that rot. ‘Course, Dhamon could do it and save Maldred the grief. Dhamon wouldn't moan over the likes of you." The boy struggled for a moment more, until he was silenced by her icy stare. He lay still.

"Fetch!" Dhamon wiped the blood off his sword onto the dead Ergothian's shirt. "What did you find?"

The kobold's head poked out of the second wagon, a dark red cap resting awkwardly on his small head. "First one's filled with clothes and such!" he called out, hooting when Rikali let out a whoop. "This one's got some food and spirits and boo-ti-ful smoking pipes." He held out an exquisitely carved sample of a bearded old man, the stem rising from his head. "Pipes for me, tobacco. Lots of tobacco. There's some crates I can't get into. Lots of nails in them." He scampered out of the wagon and ran to the third. "Maybe our luckll be better here."