trap

“You’re sure about this?” A stiff nod from Jito and the determined glint in his eyes were answer enough for Gavin. Gavin often had trouble distinguishing between determined and crazed when it came to kobolds, though. Gavin checked his operating theater: He had the inner workings of the cuckoo clock Jito had brought, as well […]

Gavin chewed thoughtfully on some exquisite squirrel jerky as he monitored the bounty hunters’ approach. They clearly knew his reputation because they were moving slowly and methodically checking their surroundings for hidden surprises. Yes, they knew who and what he was. This was going to be fun. Taking off his right boot, Gavin collected his

Gark peered deep into the flame, waiting for the blessed moment when the Mother of Destruction would whisper her words of inspiration. Blinking heavily, he withdrew from the flame. “Free the flame” she had said, but what did that mean? Snacking on some pigeons, he sifted through his trapsmithing stores. There was the sturdy dwarf-sized

Running through the forest, Gavin silently congratulated himself. Things were going splendidly. The werewolf pack was hunting him down, and, if everything went according to plan, they would trouble the baroness no more. No sooner had he finished the thought than the ground rose to meet him. Dazed, Gavin picked himself up and looked at

Standing over Robin’s motionless body, Gavin felt a slight pang of regret. Maybe he shouldn’t have teased the youth about his lack of experience. Robin’s bold charge of the albino dire bat had been glorious, but the fiendish bat had savaged the boy’s chest to a bloody pulp in return. Scrounging through the boy’s pockets

Gavin carefully handled the two porcelain dolls he had ordered. Both carried the visage of Dargon, the foolish mage who had reneged on their deal. Gavin had secured the mage’s tower with several contraptions and then the mage had decided that the secret of those contraptions should be kept by only one person. Gavin had

“Praise the knight, for he is a metal-clad pillar of strength.” Gavin didn’t know why he recalled that particular street preacher’ sermon as he sped through the narrow alley. It was oddly appropriate because the paladin did prove to be relentless in his pursuit. The clanking of metal armor stayed with him, even though Gavin

Shivering from the cold, Gavin stared through his spyglass, looking over the cultist’s compound. They worshiped an ice demon, but that didn’t stop them from staying inside. Judging from the smoke that spiralled up from the chimney, the cultists were keeping themselves very warm. “Hypocrites,” Gavin spat. Gavin reached for one of his trail rations.

From the shadows, Gavin watched as the burly fighter came to the agreed-upon location. The fighter warily eyed his surroundings. He had come early, but Gavin had anticipated that and had come earlier still. With him, Gavin had a little surprise. As Gavin expected, the fighter wandered right into his surprise. To the fighter’s credit,

Gavin’s back ached from pulling the cart up the hill. The cart was stacked high with assorted curious and sundry items. A sign proclaimed that “Gavin’s Traveling Store” was open for business. “Where were they?” Gavin wondered to himself. “I should have been hit hours ago.” Gavin sighed. He had underestimated the paranoia of bandits.

Leaning against the rail just above the barge’s prow, Gavin gazed upon his four companions. They were fast becoming exceedingly drunk on the captain’s ale. The barge’s captain, a burly dwarf, stood at the rudder with a deepening scowl on his face. Leoman had taken the lead in splitting the proceeds from their latest adventure.

“Master Kiro?” Gavin’s voice echoed throughout the cavern that Master Kiro used as his workshop. The kobold had invited him to see a new creation, and although Gavin valued innovation, he dreaded the journey. He always felt like an adventurer, just one step away from disaster, whenever he entered Kiro’s workshop. Gavin carefully made his

With the tip of his boot, Gavin prodded the body lying on the kitchen floor. No response. Wedging his foot under the body, he turned it on its back. Zaron’s vacant eyes met his, and Gavin noted the look of mild surprise fixed on the mage’s face. He guessed that magically retreating hadn’t paid off

The lock posed no challenge to his skills. After Gavin opened the door, he saw that the place was filthy and infested with vermin. He took a few steps in, dropped the items he had scavenged from all over town on the floor, and closed the door behind him. The sledgehammer, the rusted length of

Pain jolted Gavin with every step he took, and blood seeped through fingers that he pressed hard on the gash covering his right side. “’Come to his lordship’s party, Gavin,’ she’d said. ‘It’s going to be fun, and you can meet new clients.’” Business had been slow, and she had smiled that smile of hers,