[While on a rescue mission gone crazed, a holy warrior and a rogue fight bandits, demons, and the urge to rip each other's clothes off.]
The mission, rescuing a princess, could be going better.
Séa is an earnest paladin, honest and gullible. Tash is...
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Faint purple light wavered ahead. Tension pinched Ghomarck's face and he extinguished his magelight. Gradually, it dawned on Séa that bare, lifeless rocks, left to their own devices, should not produce such a spectral luminance. Something abnormal lay ahead.
As silently as armor rattles allowed, they crept forward into a chamber crowded with a grid of blocky dwarven columns. The violet illumination flickered from their left. Warily they wove among the stone pillars.
On tiptoe, Séa passed a final row of columns and eased from shadow into garish radiance. Against the smooth stone of the left wall, three figures in tall gnome hats clustered around a glowing oval, the source of the illumination. The door-like oval stood man-high, and significantly taller than the tips of the conical hats. One of the small humanoids wore a bright green coat and one wore enormous boots the color of sunflower petals.
Gnomes. A smile flickered on Séa's lips for a few moments. The gnomes she had previously met were magical, clever, quirky, and generally lighthearted. They were artisans, artificers, performers, and pranksters. Perhaps the three in the hats could be reasoned with as regards the princess.
But her positive expression plummeted as she took in additional visual details. Two of three figures went barefoot, but instead of ordinary skin and big toes, red scales covered their clawed feet. Likewise, the scrawny backs of the two coatless ones resembled the spiny backs of red dragons, right down to stubby, useless bat wings. Scales? Wings? Claws? No gnome ever had those!
To Séa's left, Tash's bowstring creaked as she pulled to full draw. Her whisper tickled Séa's ear, "The feck are those things?"
The paladin sighed and reached for her mace. "Yotches in gnome hats. Father Kay says they're tricky."
Tash's eyes narrowed. "So ... kill 'em?"
One of the gnome-sized humanoids glanced back over its narrow shoulder. Its hook nose descended to nearly touch its protruding chin, and its beady eyes stared inscrutably from beneath lumpy brow ridges. It squawked, revealing rows of yellow, pointed teeth. Instantly, the others spun and stared at the trio of invaders.
Ghomarck croaked from the vicinity of Séa's right elbow. "'Ware! Spellcasters."
Séa blurted, "Yes, Tash. Before they cast." The paladin accelerated toward the trio of gnome-hatted creatures. Her feet pounded the floor in clashes of metal on stone.
All three creatures crouched and wove arcane hand motions. Tash's bowstring twanged, and one of them paused its air-weaving to stare at the feathered shaft protruding from its chest. The next yotch raised its trembling hands skyward like a religious zealot and babbled reedy, raspy syllables.
The third extended knob-knuckled fingers to spray a fan of brownish mist toward the now-running Séa. Her next footfall slipped. She windmilled her arms and pumped her legs, but the floor's friction had disappeared. She crashed to the unyielding ground and slid, her speed unabated, with metallic scrapings and grindings that sounded like an iron golem chomping rivets.
