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The Kelbit warriors, referred to by Yrag and Tenser by their common name of "kobolds", hung back and let the Eiger living among them move forward.  Even the Kelbit used the derisive term of "ogre" for their foul, vicious, and powerful companion.  They hated it with a passion, for it bullied them constantly, but its strength was without peer on this level of the dungeon and made their clan strong by association.  Should the human intruders kill it, they would not mourn the ogre, even though its passing would leave them vulnerable.

Yrag, Tenser, and Ehlissa were lucky that the ogre felt so confident that it had strode out into the room to meet them halway instead of waiting in a doorway where it could not be flanked.  The torches worried it just a little, but the ogre planned to get rid of those nuisances just as soon as it had dealt with the swordsman...

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Tenser finished the last of the six kobolds sleeping before him, grabbed the little creature's tunic, and used it to wipe off the blood that was thick on his blade and hand.  The tunic was baggy and, upon inspection, both cut and pinned down to the kobold's size.  Perhaps it had once been a fine cote, looted from the barracks of the castle, or even taken off the body of some hapless victim the kobolds had themselves murdered.  This second theory made Tenser feel a little better about what he had done and he clung to it as truth.

There was little time for introspection.  There was still some sound of fighting in the other room, or perhaps it had moved on past that already, so dim had the clash of weapons and shields become.  Nor could he hear Yrag or Ehlissa shouting now.

Tenser parted the curtain and came back through the pillored hall to the entry room, only to spy Yrag and Ehlissa standing there, watching the northeast doorway.

At Tenser's approach, Yrag and Ehlissa snapped out of their passive stares.  The kobolds that had tried to ambush them from behind had been pushed back by Ehlissa's charmed kobold and the danger there seemed to have passed for the moment.  They turned away, with Ehlissa ready to follow Tenser and explore the new room he had found, but Yrag wanting to discuss whether they should press their advantage over the northeast kobolds. But first...

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Yrag followed through on his shield bash, knocked the little kobold on its rear, and then stomped on its chest with his booted foot.  All the while, Yrag kept an eye on the next kobold, waiting to see if it wanted to engage him in melee after throwing its spear.

Ehlissa watched on, marveling at her little charmed kobold that tried valiantly to hold the door and keep its former comrades from reaching her. 

And Tenser, well Tenser...

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Tenser braved parting the curtain to the next room. He could not see much of this other room by the light of his dropped torch, a short distance behind him, but he could tell that no one was moving inside the room. The floor, however, was littered with the bodies of four more sleeping kobolds, caught in the radius of his sleeping spell. "Oh dear..." Tenser whispered out loud. This encounter was shaping up to include an awful lot of kobolds.

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One spell.  Tenser had just one spell, preserved magically in his mind.  A combination of arcane components would activate the spell and it would leave his mind.  He could speak the same words again, make the same gestures, but there would be no more magic associated with them until he had rested and re-prepared his spell the next day.

For any magic-user, no matter how powerful, there was something a little frightening about casting that last spell of the day.  Leaving yourself defenseless to the world until you had your spell or spells back.  Tenser had felt that way many times in the rough neighborhoods of the City of Greyhawk.  Here in the dungeons of Castle Greyhawk, he expected to feel infinitely more powerless.

But that didn't matter.  His friends needed to be protected.  He cast his spell.

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After handing off his torch, Tenser fumbled with a scrollcase tied to his belt. He opened the case and unfurled a sheet of parchment from inside it. He then reached into a pouch in the folds of his robe and produced a piece of charcoal. He began sketching lines to represent the rooms of the dungeon, guessing at random how large to draw them in relation to his sheet of parchment.  He considered using boxes for doors, but it was more time-consuming to get the boxes just right and he settled for single strokes of the charcoal.  

Yrag insisted on skipping the doors and moved to the far right end of the room and the open archway there.  Their eyes must have been adjusting to the dim and smoky light of the torches because they could make out the far end of the room, past the pillars, from the archway.

"What did you mean by separated?" Tenser asked. "There wasn't anything in the plan about separating."

"Not by choice, lad. This dungeon is tricky. Tricky like a maze. Zagyg wanted people to get lost in it."

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Trailing wisps of smoke behind them, the two young magic-users lined up behind Yrag, with Ehlissa at the rear. Yrag's armor jingled malevolently as they marched down the stairs, as if trying to alert whatever menaces awaited them below. Because Yrag seemed not to care, Tenser tried not to care too, though Ehlissa was increasingly unsure about having not hired someone stealthier, or perhaps even having come at all.

The stairs were not in an open stairwell, but closed off on either side with walls of sheer stone. The steps were also hewn from the rock the castle sat on. The stairs were not overly narrow, yet there was a strong sense of confinement. They were descending underground now, and the walls seemed as thick as the world was wide. The torches gave some comfort, but belched up clouds of black smoke that hung overhead and reminded them of a storm brewing. Every step on the stairs seemed to grow louder, as if announcing their presence. And still the staircase continued to spiral ever downward.

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