Friend or foe?

Each tentative step down the bluestone stair sent Drake further in to the darkness below the derelict manor. He had found the cellar door whilst rummaging through the remains of what at one time must have been the bustling kitchen of a minor noble, or perhaps a self titled criminal Baron.

The chamber awaiting him was void of the items expected, no racks where rich wine once sat, nor barrels, crates or any manner of storage. In their place, centred in the rectangular room a stagnant green sludge revealed itself as the source of a foul aroma.
Wall sconces lit the room well, not that any Grimstone would ever need such assistance to see in dim light.

The clatter of armour above spurred the now ex-bandit deeper in to the unknown.

That can't possibly be them...

"Really?" Grimstone muttered under his breath, glancing back up the staircase.

*CLICK*

Drake felt it through the sole of his boot as he allowed his weight to shift off the final stair.
A simple mechanism, simple but obviously effective. One of the stone blocks had been rigged to respond to pressure.

In that moment, the Half-Drow adventurer caught a faint scent, something he knew, something he didn't much care for.

If that was a trap, I'd be dead. Calm down. Keep moving.

Peering cautiously around Drake sniffed the air hunting for that familiar odour once more.
Though the scent evaded him, a familiar cry echoed out from behind a portcullis door.

Draconic, with a heavy reptilian hiss, the alarm was sounded over and over.

"Intruders!"

"Intruders!"

"Intruders up top!"

Bloody Kobolds!? His eyes widened and he looked to the ceiling.

"I'd love a little help, if anyone happens to give a damn..." More plea than prayer, Grimstone had never truly felt a need to speak to the Gods, until now. The portcullis door groaned as it began to slide upward, rusted iron scraped against stone and he searched for a way out.
Hurried steps from behind the iron door became louder, Drake panicked and froze.

There's no way out...

With a deep sigh of resignation, Grimstone drew his sickle from within the straps of his pieced together armour and crouched low, readying for his final moments.

Movement to his right stole his attention, a dark and swift shape flashed past his face and the now terrified Drake followed the movement. He was left staring at nothing, the shape was gone, confusion overcame him as he watched the corner of the room darken, as though the light was losing a battle with darkness. He darted for the shadowed haven and hunkered down in concealment.

Was that a... bird?

Pressing himself hard in to the wall behind, Drake attempted to slow his breathing.

"Quick! Find them!" The order rang throughout the chamber as a group of Kobold's charged through the now fully opened gate, ready for battle.

Holding his breath, Drake could do nothing but wait and hope. The Kobold's were haphazard in their search, darting from place to place. It was only now that Drake noticed a passage on the far wall, one of the creatures darted in only to return moments later and hiss in rage.

He hadn't noticed any of the search party head up the staircase, but one must have as it was now returning from above and motioning for his brethren to be silent.

Death is the natural end of life.

Grimstone's eyes glazed over in the inky dark and another shape shot past him, this one luring his gaze to the open, unguarded portcullis gate. Shaking his mind free of its impromptu reverie he moved again, slipping around the corner in to a tight passage of the same bluestone that he left behind. Seeing no threat in the cramped hall he made a break for the corner that lay no more than four or five feet from him.

That was definitely a bird...

Drake waited and listened. Nothing.

*BANG*

The portcullis gate slammed down. He was trapped. They were coming back.
Within this tight passage he had no better place to make a stand and peeked warily around the crumbling stone. One kobold stood peering back beyond the gate. Now more confused than ever, Drake leaned in against the wall and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Death is the natural... what? What was that?

A clamour from beyond the gate now filled his ears, a fight had started and the Kobold's were enraged. Drake could hear a male voice shouting orders in common, as well as responses from what must be soldiers under his command. Cries of anguish erupted from the now raging battle and Drake smelled burning flesh.

Wizards now too? This can't get any worse.

In a state of pure despair, he slumped to the ground. It didn't matter who won the fight, both parties would see him dead. To delve further in to this decrepit place would surely reveal more of the filthy creatures, who in turn would gladly shove a spear in to his guts. To remain in the hall seemed the only logical approach, so he did.

As the battle continued, Grimstone began to listen more closely. There was most definitely someone shouting orders, but there were also arguments against his choices, definitively un-soldierly.
The more he listened, the more he began to realise that these weren't his pursuers. It seemed as though there were only two or three voices, he couldn't be sure but they certainly didn't talk like soldiers from any garrison he knew of.

Isn't it a bit soon for bounty hunters? Unless...

Drake pondered the glimmer of hope he found, that these newcomers may not be hostile.
He sat and considered as the battle raged on.

I could help them... I should.
They might just let me leave...

An entirely different cry of pain suddenly rang through the hallway, the battle was shifting, these not-soldiers were in trouble. Grimstone had no way to help, the gate was shut and that Kobold guarding it wasn't going to budge. Believing there must be a lever, switch or some device that would open the gate, Drake Grimstone summoned up his best attempt at a Kobold voice and shouted down the hall in Draconic.

"Open the damn door!"

It worked. In hearing the gate begin to slide open once more, Drake ducked his head back around just in time to see the Kobold move away from a hidden switch in the floor and rush in to the room.

Ah! Sneaky little bastards.

He crept slowly toward where the switch was located and began to inspect it. The now exhausted Drake never had a mind for mechanical devices but quickly realised that this switch was beyond the engineering of Kobold's, it was very likely that it was in place when the manor above was still in use. Just as he was about to move toward the raised gate, the Kobold came running back down the passage, terror in its eyes and blood pouring from multiple wounds.

Drake focused and drew upon the eldritch energy he so favoured and launched a vicious assault toward the Kobold, taking it directly in the face. The Kobold dropped to the ground, its head now charred from the attack. A wry grin spread across Drake's face and he kicked the creature as it lay dead.

"Filthy creatures anyway," He spat the words. "I don't know why Harwood dealt with you lot in the first place."

Drake moved toward the portcullis and his eyes glazed over once more, slowing his stride.

Hold no pity for those who suffer and die, for death is the natural end of life.

A realisation of silence from beyond the gate brought Drake back to full focus.

What the... wait, wait... are they...

He peered around the corner, through the gate. He couldn't see the party, they appeared to have moved back toward the stairs, but he could hear them talking. It was a bloody battle, Drake could see some of the bodies. It seemed that they were alive but had taken grievous wounds to gain the victory.

"Make sure to take the heads..." Drake heard one of the group offer.

At that, Drake raised an eyebrow.

Wary still and not ready to trust anyone, Drake Grimstone settled in against the wall and waited.
He listened, he learned and he devised an approach, all the while his focus shifting to the strange shapes and odd thoughts that had found their way in to his mind...