With the danger passed, the party were able to concentrate on the grizzly task of removing the kobold ears. As they performing this butchery, Bakaan turned to Eilonwy, and asked, “I never asked when you hired me, but what are we known as? Eilonwy's Band? Koboldbane?”
Eilonwy stood up, a kobold ear in one hand. “We don't have a name.”
“Really?” The warlord was surprised. “All the best adventuring bands have names. Like the Black Blades from Waterdeep, and The Dalekeepers.”
“How about Eilonwy plus special guests?” asked Eilonwy.
“How about The Iron Boot?” commented Doomgrad. The others seemed impressed. Then, clenching his fist, he continued, “The Iron Boot, inside which is a Silk Stocking!”
“Hmmn, maybe not,” frowned Eilonwy.
As they gathered their ears and climbed back into the wagon, the discussion continued. Over the next hour, as they approached Winterhaven, the suggestions, some sensible (“The Stalwart Hand”), some less sensible (“Kaza and the Headwounds”), flowed thick and fast. Eventually they came to an agreement as they pulled up to the gate of Winterhaven in the fading evening light. Two well armed guards stood at the gate, alert to their approach.
“Evening travellers, you've made it here just in time, we are about to close the gate for the night.” One of the guards stepped forwards. “Are you looking for accommodation for the night?”
“Yes, we are,” Doomgrad replied, his voice deeper than ever. “We are the Blue Moon Corps here at the instruction of Lord Markelhay of Fallcrest with a message for Lord Padraig of this town.”
“Well, I can recommend the Wrafton Inn, it's has good local ales and the food is also good local fare. Rooms are inexpensive, and Salvana Wrafton, well, she's an excellent host.”
“I see,” said Eilonwy. “Sounds good.”
“Not that a recommendation means much, as it's the only inn in the village,” commented the second guard. Soon the newly names Blue Moon Company had settled in at the inn, and were feasting on roast lamb, chicken, and a variety of local vegetables, washed down with some imported wine.
As they were filling their faces and dribbling gravy down their tunics, a middle-aged man in fine attire came in, accompanied by an elderly gentleman in a blue robe who carried a tall walking staff. The innkeeper, Salvana Wrafton, greeted the two men with a bow, and showed them to a small booth in the corner of the inn.
“I bet that's the local noble, that Lord Padraig,” commented Gilee through a mouthful of half chewed potatoes. Eilonwy nodded in reply, placed aside her napkin and walked over to the booth the two gentlemen were sat in.
“Excuse me, but may I assume you are Lord Padraig?” she asked.
“I am, young lady. Please, how can I help you?”
“I am Eilonwy, leader of the Blue Moon Corps, a band of experienced adventurers. We are here at the request of Lord Markelhay of Fallcrest. He asked that we travel here and present ourselves to you, and give you this letter of introduction.” She handed over the letter, and Padraig cracked the wax seal. After reading for a few moments, he chuckled, and passed the note to the old man at his side.
“Lord Markelhay says that you performed a great service for him, eliminating a kobold lair that was troubling Fallcrest,” Padraig said
“Yes, my lord, that is true,” replied Eilonwy. “We also slew the dragon that was coercing the kobolds into attacking.”
“Yes, his letter says as such. He also said that you would be willing to help this village in dealing with our own kobold infestation. These kobolds, and the occasional goblin that has been seen with them, are troubling travellers in the area and are attacking outlying farms. Although we have strong defences here in Winterhaven, we have few professional soldiers to rid the are of this threat. I would appreciate it if you could perform for us the same service as you did for Lord Markelhay. I am certainly willing to match the 5 gold pieces that he was paying per ear.”
“Do you know where their lair is, my lord?”
“I am afraid I do not. The day to day running of the town prevents me from hunting them myself, however some of the villagers may know more. I suggest you speak to some of the farmers, and perhaps Ninaran, the local elven hunter. She may have some idea of their whereabouts.”
“Thank you my lord. We will do our best to rid you of this kobold menace,” Eilonwy bowed as she rose.
Later that evening, the cleric was able to talk to Ninaran, the elven hunter, who was sat alone by the fire, sipping wine. From her, Eilonwy was able to discover that the kobolds had a lair behind a waterfall some five miles to the south east, further into the foothills of the Thunder Peaks. The next morning, the party set off in search of the kobold lair.
They soon found themselves in battle with kobolds. As they travelled along the road, a small group of the lizard-like beasts ambushed them. Consisting of four kobold dragonshields and a wyrmpriest, and aided by a single goblin archer, the party soon found themselves badly outflanked. With kobolds attacking from all sides, it was only through the great skill and strength of the party, and the leadership of Bakaan, who managed to rally his companions and give the party a little cohesion, that they were able to emerge victorious. However, they had suffered some unpleasant wounds and rather than attempt to tackle the kobold lair when at less than full strength, they took the decision to head back to town to lick their wounds and to think on how they could prevent such ambushes in the future.
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