Schmordrick alone
It was not the first time Schmordrick had been alone. He had traveled solo for a while before bumping into his old friend Mordrick in Waterdeep. But that solitary time was by his choice. This, was decidedly not what he wanted. But the head injury he sustained in the battle with the Kenku lingered into the next morning. He had been hit in the face before - blood in the eyes was nothing new. Something about this injury, however, just was harder to shake.
It was with regret that Schmordrick told his newfound associates that he would catch up with them after getting a little bit of a rest. Even in the short time he had spent with them, he had noticed that they tended to get distracted a lot anyway. Schmordrick figured it shouldn't be too hard to catch up to them when he was back to peak condition.
Schmordrick had only intended to rest for a couple of hours, but when he awoke, the moon was high in the sky. He had lost an entire day of travel. He groaned as he pushed himself up to his feet. He stretched, massaging out muscles twisted from too many hours of sleeping on the ground. He searched his pack, and pulled out a bit of dried meat. He needed the nutrition, he knew, but even the movement needed to get it set his head pounding.
But Schmordrick wasn't the kind of dwarf that would allow himself to be kept down by a simple headache. He shouldered his pack and began following the path towards Lumbor. He was moving much more slowly than usual, but he couldn't abide the thought of sitting still for too much longer. He got in a few hours of decent travel before giving in to the urge to rest again. He had barely unfurled his bedroll before he collapsed into sleep.
This time when Schmordrick awoke he could see clearly. he felt better. things, he thought, were looking up. as he continued his path forward, he took out his new bone flute and fiddled with a new tune.
The path wasn't hard to follow. The boys tended to make quite a statement. When he found the hag carcasses on the side of the road, he wasn't too surprised. A quick search of the surrounding area revealed their tracks heading towards a nearby cave.
It had clearly been the lair of the aforementioned carcasses. You light a torch and checked out the cave to make sure it truly was vacant. It looked like it had been searched, and anything of value taken. He smiled when, on the back wall, he found a note carved in Dwarvish.
"Subtle as always, my dear Mordrick," he thought with a grin. Convinced of the security of the location, Schmordick sent himself a camp and settled in. He was sure he could catch up to them by nightfall tomorrow.
Sleep had almost claimed him when the snap of branches outside the cave launched Schmordrick to attention.
He lept up with a speed that would have been impossible a day ago. He kicked dirt over his fire, plunging the cave into near total darkness. Knocking an arrow to his longbow, he tucked himself into the deepest recesses of the cave. He let out a hoot, the familiar sound of a tawny owl. It was, he thought, a quite accurate rendition of a female during mating season. There was a beat of silence, and then another branch broke. He pressed further against the wall. Friends would have responded to the call. He didn't know what was out there, but they weren't friends.
The moment there was movement in the entrance, Schmordrick let loose the tension on the bow. The arrow struck fast and struck true, right between the eyes of a creature that crumbled to the floor without a sound. A swift, practiced motion brought another arrow to ready. It was too dark to see what kind of creature he had felled, but it was humanoid.
A second creature stepped into the opening and Schmordrick let lose his attack. At the last moment, the creature dodged. Schmordrick cursed and grabbed his dagger from his boot, throwing it in a fluid motion, catching the creature in the throat. He was rewarded by a wet gurgle. But the extra time had cost him. Several other creatures entered the cave in that moment. Schmordrick fought hard, knowing the odds were against him. He would go, he thought, in the honored warrior tradition, but he would take as many with him as he could.
Dim rays of sunlight were shining on the floor in front of Schmordrick when he blinked awake. He had no concept of how much time had passed, but he clearly wasn't dead. He refused to believe he could be in such pain and be dead. The wound on his head had reopened, and congealed blood was crusting over one of his eyes. In the light, he could see dark wet spots near the cave entrance, marks of where those he killed had fallen. He started to shift, trying to sit up, when he noticed ropes tied tightly around his hands and feet. He resisted the urge to growl his frustration.
He must have made a noise, because suddenly there was a backlit shape in the cave entrance. Schmordrick froze, feigning sleep, but peeking out of one eye. The creature came in a bit further and he was able to focus. Gnolls. Damn, he thought. Gnolls were chaotic and undisciplined, but smart enough that it would be hard to get away, especially on his own. The one heading towards him was scarred and older than most Schmordrick had seen before, not a good sign since that meant they were strong enough and wily enough to have surpassed the typical life expectancy of his kind.
The creature growled at him, leaning close and sniffing loudly over Schmordrick's head. It pawed at him, catching the scabbed over wound. Despite himself, Schmordrick winced. The creature let out a yowling string of woofs and yips, and pulled Schmordrick up to a seated position. "Aye, easy lad. There's no need for yer to be so rough!" He was answered with a growl.
Several other gnolls entered behind them. Schmordrick guessed that this first one was in charge. It was by far the largest and oldest. "What der ye want, dog? Ye don't need me. Ye can have the cave," Schmordrick said, looking around. Gnolls weren't known for their intelligence, and he honestly had never tried to have a conversation with one. He wasn't even sure they spoke Common.
The leader gestured one of the other Gnolls forward. A scrawny, hunched figure came forward. This Gnoll looked young, but her body was twisted, as if an injury as a child had not healed properly. A series of woofs were exchanged, and the young one pointed at him. "You," she said in a growly, gravely voice, "work. You work."
Schmordrick raised an eyebrow. "Work? What do ye mean, lass?"
She tried again. "Work. Move. Work, live."
Schmordrick lifted his bound hands. "Cannae work if I'm bound." Schmordrick was already scanning the room, deciding if being untied would be enough to let him get free of the situation. His ankle was throbbing. He suspected it was sprained at the least. A pile in the corner revealed that he had been stripped of most of his gear while unconscious. He saw his bow slung across the back of one of the Gnolls in front of him. He grimaced. Not a lot of odds in his favor.
The Gnoll growled at him, and turned to the leader. Schmordrick guessed she was translating, though he wasn't sure how much she understood of what he said.
"Food," she barked at Schmordrick.
"Uh, in my pack?" he pointed towards the pile of his belongings.
She tipped her head to the side, and one ear flopped over. It would have been a cute motion, like that of a puppy, if the circumstances had been less tense. She scrabbled over to the pile where he pointed, moving with a slow, jolting gait. She sniffed loudly before picking up Schmordrick's pack. She dumped the contents on the floor. Several of the Gnolls leapt over towards here, sifting through the contents. His flute rolled on the floor and Schmordrick winced as several times it came dangerously close to being stepped on. The final pieces of dried meats were quickly snapped up by the Gnolls, and all too soon their attention returned to him.
The girl limped back over to him. "Food?" she said, much less forcefully this time. She poked Schmordrick's chest.
"What, lass?"
She pocked him again. "Food?" she repeated.
Schmordrick's eyes widened in understanding. "Nay, I'm not food! Are ye mad?" He tried to scoot back, but all that was behind him was stone.
She nodded, and sniffed him again. It was an unsettling habit. Schmordrick couldn't honestly say he had been sniffed before. "No food. Work." She poked him in the chest. "Work."
"Are ye saying ye want me to work for you, and ye won't eat me?" Schmordrick struggled to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
The girl let out a soft whimper. Her head bobbed up and down. A yes, he supposed.
"Alright. Tell yer friend here I'll do it," he spat out, the very core of his being chafing at the idea. He wasn't going let them win that easily though. "But I want my flute." She cocked her head again. "The white thing," he tipped his head in the direction of where it rested, abandoned. "I want it. Give it ter me, and I will work."
A long conversation of yips followed. It took so long that Schmordrick almost dozed off again. His ankle was throbbing and he was nauseous again.
Eventually the Gnolls seemed to reach some sort of consensus. The girl finally turned back to him. "Move. Work," she nodded and shambled away, as one of the larger Gnolls bent to untie his hands. Another roughly shifted the bonds around his feet, hobbling him instead of tying them completely together. Schmordrick leaned so he could watch the female. She bent, and carefully picked up his flute, unnoticed by the others. Looking over her shoulder, she lifted a finger to her snout, and tucked the flute beneath her robes. Schmordrick quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent.
Schmordrick spent the rest of the day following the terse commands of the Gnolls, relayed through the female. Mostly they wanted him to clean out the remnants the Hags had left behind in the cave. After one of the trips outside to deposit refuse out of the way, and Schmordrick noticed his flute, carefully placed at the top of his bedroll in the corner. The next time the girl barked commands at him, he replied, "Ye've followed yer end of the bargain. So I'll do it. But make no mistake lass, this arrangement cannae be permanent."
The next few days passed in similar fashion. The Gnolls occassionally tossed him scraps of gods only knew what to eat, but Schmordrick wasn't in a position to be picky. The female Gnoll had made no further overtures, and had not responded to him again. It seemed her kindness only came once. He had tried on the second day to keep going once he dropped the scattered bones in the trash heap, but two warrior Gnolls swiftly caught up. The beating they gave Schmordrick was one he would not soon forget. And it made thoroughly sure that he was in no condition to attempt another escape.
On the fourth night, Schmodrick had exhausted the last of his patience. Something needed to change, and soon. In the few moments before dark, before he collapsed into an exhausted sleep, he fiddled around with his flute. He polished the reed and began to play.
‘Tis a Dwarvish lament of supplication to the sun, moon, waves, and trees. Let nature claim me if my part has been played. But if not, let their forces hone me like the tool I means to be in the coming trials.
It is a haunting, beautiful melody. The gnolls nearby stop and pay attention for a while. He leant against the stone of the cave, feeling the coolness of the limestone at his back.
As he played, a small mote of light enterd the mouth of the cave. None of the gnolls reacted, but Schmordrick could clearly see it bouncing and bobbing, checking each of them out. It began making its way towards the musician in the corner. Schmordrick didn't stop playing as he watched it float, closer and closer.
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