Still, he knew little outside his own culture and people. He had read much in the ancient writings of the other races and their ways, but his experience told him most of the servants of the One Lord, and their Malakim, would never trust a D’zarik; even a half-blooded one.
For almost a quarter century, Melizar had been on the run. He wandered Shadowdeep, save for occasional forays avoiding the surface out of fear of what surface worlders do to D’zarik they encounter above ground. For this reason, he kept his identity and race secret from his companions. The mystery of his hiddenness added a certain spectacle to his powers and elevated the perception of the depth of his abilities to the point where most would loathe opposing him. That suited Melizar just fine.
As the others began to move southward out of the throne room, Melizar snapped out of his reverie and prepared to resume their quest. The continuation was short-lived. Not far beyond the entrance to the throne room, the corridor had completely collapsed. It appeared deliberate. Melizar surmised this likely was near the original entrance to the complex. Given the Hobgoblins’ aversion for the throne room, it made sense they might seal it to prevent anyone entering their hideout from this direction.
“What a waste of such fine Durgak workmanship,” Duncan remarked. “I should remember this place should I come into my fortunes. It would make a great southern outpost or possibly even a temple on the edge of the Wild Lands in which to station troops to secure stability in the area. A solid crew of Durgak diggers could restore this place to its former glory in no time.”
“No doubt,” Melizar answered, “if the Durgak could be enticed out of their mountain city and into the broader world.”
“I’ll have you know,” Duncan said with an air of indignation in his voice, “that Durgak roamed the length and breadth of Ya-erets long ago. We just prefer stability and security to aimless wandering.”
Melizar thought of at least half a dozen snide remarks, any one of which would have driven the hot-tempered Durgak into a frenzy, but as amusing as that would be, he desired neither the added attention nor the distraction from their mission at hand. There would be ample time to taunt the Durgak under better circumstances.
Melizar was not capricious in his antagonism, but found it an excellent analytical tool for understanding someone. When one knew how far to push to drive someone to the edge of violence without pushing them over the line, it gave one an advantage. It also helped one understand and control one’s opponents. D’zarik prided themselves on maintaining their composure in conflict. This made them cold, calculating opponents, who could slay or save with equally dispassionate reasoning.
Thus far, the youth, Thatcher, seemed simple and naive, easy enough to manipulate. Gideon was steady and reserved, nearly unshakable. There was a hint of something deeper, but the paladin hid it so well that it would take a long time to find the chink in his armor. Goldain was unfathomable. The man seemed a positive idiot, completely unaware of his surroundings and oblivious to subtlety. However, Melizar had seen the transformation when it came to battle. This insipid oaf transformed instantly into a strategic, quick-thinking battle veteran. There were also hints that Goldain understood far more than he let on. The Qarahni was worth watching, as Melizar estimated Goldain to be the most dangerous member of the company by far.
With their exploration of the hideout complete, it was time to return to Aton-Ri with the news of what they had found. As they exited the structure, Thatcher rearmed the two gobbler traps they had taken down on the way in. The raiders inhabiting this particular hideout had probably all been dispatched in their efforts, but these traps might reduce the forces of any other bands who decided to appropriate this delving as their own.
Each of
For almost a quarter century, Melizar had been on the run. He wandered Shadowdeep, save for occasional forays avoiding the surface out of fear of what surface worlders do to D’zarik they encounter above ground. For this reason, he kept his identity and race secret from his companions. The mystery of his hiddenness added a certain spectacle to his powers and elevated the perception of the depth of his abilities to the point where most would loathe opposing him. That suited Melizar just fine.
As the others began to move southward out of the throne room, Melizar snapped out of his reverie and prepared to resume their quest. The continuation was short-lived. Not far beyond the entrance to the throne room, the corridor had completely collapsed. It appeared deliberate. Melizar surmised this likely was near the original entrance to the complex. Given the Hobgoblins’ aversion for the throne room, it made sense they might seal it to prevent anyone entering their hideout from this direction.
“What a waste of such fine Durgak workmanship,” Duncan remarked. “I should remember this place should I come into my fortunes. It would make a great southern outpost or possibly even a temple on the edge of the Wild Lands in which to station troops to secure stability in the area. A solid crew of Durgak diggers could restore this place to its former glory in no time.”
“No doubt,” Melizar answered, “if the Durgak could be enticed out of their mountain city and into the broader world.”
“I’ll have you know,” Duncan said with an air of indignation in his voice, “that Durgak roamed the length and breadth of Ya-erets long ago. We just prefer stability and security to aimless wandering.”
Melizar thought of at least half a dozen snide remarks, any one of which would have driven the hot-tempered Durgak into a frenzy, but as amusing as that would be, he desired neither the added attention nor the distraction from their mission at hand. There would be ample time to taunt the Durgak under better circumstances.
Melizar was not capricious in his antagonism, but found it an excellent analytical tool for understanding someone. When one knew how far to push to drive someone to the edge of violence without pushing them over the line, it gave one an advantage. It also helped one understand and control one’s opponents. D’zarik prided themselves on maintaining their composure in conflict. This made them cold, calculating opponents, who could slay or save with equally dispassionate reasoning.
Thus far, the youth, Thatcher, seemed simple and naive, easy enough to manipulate. Gideon was steady and reserved, nearly unshakable. There was a hint of something deeper, but the paladin hid it so well that it would take a long time to find the chink in his armor. Goldain was unfathomable. The man seemed a positive idiot, completely unaware of his surroundings and oblivious to subtlety. However, Melizar had seen the transformation when it came to battle. This insipid oaf transformed instantly into a strategic, quick-thinking battle veteran. There were also hints that Goldain understood far more than he let on. The Qarahni was worth watching, as Melizar estimated Goldain to be the most dangerous member of the company by far.
With their exploration of the hideout complete, it was time to return to Aton-Ri with the news of what they had found. As they exited the structure, Thatcher rearmed the two gobbler traps they had taken down on the way in. The raiders inhabiting this particular hideout had probably all been dispatched in their efforts, but these traps might reduce the forces of any other bands who decided to appropriate this delving as their own.
Each of
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