The Pariahs: Elfholme: Kobolds
By David Adams
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About this ebook
Two sellswords, one transformed into goat and the other deprived of her spells and vanity in equal measure, escape the clutches of officious bureaucrats. But a sea voyage, hastily pre-pared, is the least of their troubles; turning Kozog back into a half-orc is going to take powerful magic beyond Brea’s skill, and the claws of the abyssal terrors have a longer reach than either of them anticipated…
A novella set in Drathari, the world of Ren of Atikala. Part three of the The Pariahs series.
David Adams
David Adams served as an Officer in the Australian Army Reserve, trained alongside United States Marines Corps and Special Air Services SAS personnel, and served in the A.D.F as a Platoon Commander of Military Police. He has worked alongside Queensland Police Officers and held investigative roles with The Commission for Children and Child Safety.
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The Pariahs - David Adams
The Pariahs - Elfholme by David Adams
Copyright David Adams
2015
Two sellswords, one transformed into goat and the other deprived of her spells and vanity in equal measure, escape the clutches of officious bureaucrats. But a sea voyage, hastily prepared, is the least of their troubles; turning Kozog back into a half-orc is going to take powerful magic beyond Brea’s skill, and the claws of the abyssal terrors have a longer reach than either of them anticipated…
A novella set in Drathari, the world of Ren of Atikala. Part three of the The Pariahs series.
Books by David Adams
The Lacuna series (science fiction)
Lacuna
The Sands of Karathi
The Spectre of Oblivion
The Ashes of Humanity
The Prelude to Eternity
The Requiem of Steel (coming 2015)
The Kobolds series (fantasy)
Ren of Atikala
The Scars of Northaven
The Empire of Dust (coming 2015)
Stories in the Kobolds universe
The Pariahs
The Pariahs: Freelands
The Pariahs: Elfholme
The Pariahs: The Abyss (coming soon)
Sacrifice
Stories in the Lacuna universe
Magnet
Magnet: Special Mission
Magnet: Marauder
Magnet: Scarecrow
Magnet Saves Christmas
Magnet: Ironheart (coming 2015)
Faith
Imperfect
Other Books
Insufficient
Insurrection
Injustice (coming 2015)
Who Will Save Supergirl?
Evelyn’s Locket
The Pariahs:
Elfholme
A novella set in the world of Ren of Atikala
Special thanks to Clara Barrs, for bringing Brea to life.
PROLOGUE
Brea
The Valamar Coast
Tradewinds Sea
Five months before the destruction of Atikala
and the events of Ren of Atikala
Nine days after the events of The Pariahs: Freelands
OKAY,
SAID BREA, HOLDING ONTO the edge of the tiny sailboat as her spell completed. This time she was sure she had it. Try now.
Nine days on the tiny boat. Exactly nine. She hadn’t lost count, although losing count might have been a mercy. Forgetting might have tricked her, if only for just a moment, into thinking that the journey from Valamar harbour, following the island’s cliffs across to the shores of the Ironhelm territory had been less than tortuously slow. Fortunately they were close. The wind had barely blown, and the boat’s meandering course was painfully tepid. Today, at least, it was stronger. Clouds gilded the horizon, teasing more wind and faster passage.
Faster was good. All she had to eat was carrots since stopping in at some rustic coastal village for supplies. Some light armour, some sharp daggers, and far, far too little food. At least she’d had her gear sent on to Elfholme—a letter to the Freelands had seen to that—but things had gone downhill from there. All she had for company was Kozog, polymorphed into a baby goat. Henceforth, Goat-zog. The only thing she had for entertainment was a silly game—Goat-zog had swallowed a silver ring in their escape. He’d passed it twice, each time managing to re-swallow it before she could snatch it up. Third time would be the charm.
At least she’d learnt a new spell; a magical empowerment, granting silver tongued glibness. Normally magic came easily to her, when she played her music to attune herself, but the boat was a poor choice of venue; the salt water warped the wood of her summoned violin, there was no room to dance, and conserving water parched her throat. Learning this particular spell was like pulling a clump of hair out of a drain. Slow, gross, and awkward.
The problem made all her magic unreliable. At first she had been able to prestidigitate the carrots into tasting like chocolate, or steak, but her inability to sing warped her ability to cast even simple spells.
After her first…mistake…the resultant taste of the altered carrot was best not mentioned, save that it resembled Goat-zog’s goat crap. Since then she had stoically tolerated the carrots.
Eventually, she knew, the new spell would come to her. Patience was the key—her weakness if ever anything was. Brea focused herself, giving the magic a moment to settle.
When I was sixteen,
she said, the words flowing out of her mouth with every ounce of sincerity she’d ever had, I met a girl in the elven market. Her name was Katrida Snowfeather, and it was—
Goat-zog tapped his left hoof. Lie.
Dammit!
Brea snatched up the uneaten end of a carrot and threw it overboard. I thought I had it that time.
She stared blankly at the goat. Goat-zog stared blankly back at her.
Accursed goat. Was Kozog, as an orc, always able to pick when she was lying? The answer was a definite maybe. Certainly he’d been reliable in the past. This, though, was something else.
Was she slipping? Surely being polymorphed had not made Kozog better at sensing her lies.
Surely not.
You’re good at this,
she said. A painful concession but hardly the worst she’d ever made. Kind of.
Goat-zog hopped over to an unfurled parchment and tapped on a square labelled Thank You, carefully avoiding the much larger Tyranus Is An Idiot square. He was so dedicated to avoiding offending him…not that Tyranus was listening. Or were any gods.
No decent, sane diety would have allowed a demon to end up in Kozog’s house. Before the godsdeath, the divine powers had always observed a policy of keeping their direct interference on a leash; they could act only through their agents, but as each deity had agents, things had balanced out in a strange way.
Now that safeguard was gone. They had both nearly died. And some tiefling had put a demonic chest-creature thing inside Kozog. Then Brea had been dragged into a court room for doing absolutely nothing wrong (in the eyes of any sane being, at least), put on trial with no defence and had almost received a serious sentence because of it. This, especially the last bit, had hardly occurred all by itself.
Stupid dead gods.
Their absence meant that someone had messed with her. That someone was quite possibly messing with Kozog. And that they had tried to take her freedom away. This would not, could not, go unpunished. If the insult had been