Burgen eyed the spearheads cautiously. There were six, to be exact, all of which were leveled directly at his head. They appeared to be metal, but whoever made them had certainly not taken their time. The crude tips were bound haphazardly to the shafts with dirty leather straps and appeared ready to fall off at any moment.
The half-giant slowly eased himself up off his knees and stood towering over the outthrust spears. He raised a curious eyebrow and tried to peer into the shadowy cave. The creatures wielding the spears slowly emerged from the darkness into the moonlight. They did not look much better than their weapons. They were small... very small. Their wiry, rust-colored bodies were hunched forward over the spears they clutched tightly in their thin, sinewy hands. The creatures sneered at Burgen with narrow, beady eyes and slowly advanced. The half-giant cursed under his breath. They were kobolds. He hated kobolds.
One of them took a small step forward. It had odd-colored markings on its face-the leader perhaps. It growled fiercely at Burgen, keeping its spear pointed neatly at his midsection. "Drop your treasure!" it demanded.
Burgen instinctively reached for his club, but came up empty. He had left it below with the dwarves. His patience exhausted, he muttered under his breath and glared down at the kobolds. They suddenly appeared to be much less sure of themselves.
"You're joking, right?" he asked flatly.
The marked kobold looked back to its comrades, the sharp-toothed grin fading from its face and replaced with a look of confusion.
"Drop your treasure," it demanded again, but this time with a slight hesitation.
Burgen folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. "Absolutely not," he said. "Why don't you drop your treasure?"
The kobolds exchanged uneasy glances. They seemed to be struggling with the question of who outnumbered whom.
"What's going on up there, boss?" Rungit yelled from down below. "I hear talking."
One of the kobolds risked a quick peak off the side of the ledge at the dwarves on the ground. That was all the time Burgen needed. In one smooth motion, he snatched the creature's crude spear from its grasp and thumped it painfully in the stomach with his boot, sending the kobold sprawling backward into the cave.
After a brief moment of surprise, the others charged at the half-giant. He turned the spears aside easily, managing to break one in the process.
"Nothing really," Burgen called out, kicking another kobold out of his way. "Just dealing with some of the locals."
"Do you want our help, boss?" Farnus shouted up, as one of the creatures jumped onto the half-giant's back and began to climb toward his head.
Burgen reached around and grabbed the kobold off his back. "Sure," he yelled dryly as he swung the flailing creature at one of the others. He let go just before impact and watched as they both sailed screaming over the ledge. The hapless kobolds hit the ground below with a heavy thud.
The half-giant could not help but grin at the dwarves' startled exclamations as the two kobolds came raining down upon them. They were quickly followed by a third, and a fourth, as one by one Burgen booted the creatures off the ledge until just he and the leader remained.
The half-giant glowered down at the terrified kobold before him. It still held its spear defensively, although did not seem to be overly sure of its usefulness at this point.
"That was brilliant," Burgen observed bitingly.
"This not your land!" the kobold spat furiously. "What you want with Rogg land?"
"Rogg land?" The half-giant could hear the dwarves below cursing as they pulled the other kobolds off the rocks while they tried to frantically climb back up. "What is that?"
"This Rogg land!" the kobold stomped. "Rogg!" he cried out.
"Rogg!" the kobolds below echoed.
Burgen blinked and rubbed his temples with one large hand. "Look, I don't want your land. I'm looking for cobalt. Do you know what that is?"
The creature's face contorted into a twisted, toothy grin as it smirked in understanding. "You want the blue stone," it said. "You won't find."
"Unless you want me to burn Rogg land to the ground," he leaned in close to the kobold, "you had better hope I do."
"You will die. Blue stone in death land!"
Burgen hated kobolds. How they were able to continue to survive despite being so remarkably stupid was, to him, a miracle of nature. "Death land?" he asked, unimpressed.
"The blue stone deep in tunnels. But it not alone. Death lives in tunnels too."
"That would probably be why you call it death land, wouldn't it?" Burgen said dryly. "What is your name?"
The kobold puffed up its chest, in a vain attempt to look menacing. "I Granog, King of Rogg land." The half-giant rolled his eyes.
"Granog, I'll make you a deal," he said reaching into his traveling pack. His hand emerged with a small bag bound tightly at the top. The kobold's ears perked up at the unmistakable jingling of coins from inside. "I was going to give this to the dwarves down there, but they're idiots. If you can show me to the blue stone, it's yours."
With that, Burgen opened the top of the bag and held it low enough for Granog to see. The kobold's eyes widened as he gazed greedily at the gold coins. After a moment, he peered back up at the half-giant.
"Granog will show you the blue stone," he said slyly, "But no tricks!"
