As guard duty went, Glek had it pretty easy. Most of the other kobolds had left already, having to march off the bosses army to whatever rotten mess they were headed to next.
Glek was disappointed by that. He liked rotten messes. They usually involved killing someone, and, if he was really lucky torturing someone, and if he was really really luck, torturing someone and then killing them!
Guard duty didn’t mean much torture or killing, but it also didn’t mean any marching.
That pleasant thought and a handful of others, mostly focused on the blood he’d been able to spill in the raid filled his mind. Ok, it was only 2 humans, but they’d screamed, and that was the important part – he’d carry those sound of those screams with him till his dying day!
And he did.
Glek’s ears were filled with the memory of a human’s death rattle right up until the moment the shaft of an arrow filled his ears instead.
Glek blinked, confused to find himself in a new place. Hadn’t he just been guarding the approach to the barracks?
Why did everything smell like brimstone all of a sudden?
And why was there a steadily growing line of kobolds around him, all wearing the same confused expression he had on?
And why was there so much screaming coming from up ahead?
Glek didn’t think he was going to like finding out the answer to that. Not at all.