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Guard Elron and guard Drath stood outside the gates of Qeynos as dusk settled to darkness. A distant howl rolled in the hills. Elron unsheathed his sword half way.
"You're way too tense, Elron. It's not going to get you." Drath chuckled.
Elron shook his head, "By Solusek, I swear he's out there."
Drath guffawed, "You can't be serious. Not again with the talking coyote."
"He was like a coyote. If you had seen him, like I did, standing under the tree with his evil little eyes watching you, you'd piss yourself."
"You're about to make me piss myself, right now."
"Yeah, yeah, have your fun. I'm telling you though, he's out there. Biding his time. Waiting."
"You've been drinking bad ale my friend."
"Sabretooth clan. Homeland. I can hear it in my nightmares, Drath."
"Yeah, I hear it too. From you. Every night."
Elron huffed under his helmet.
"Alright, I'll lay off. You're too high strung. Why don't you take a break."
"You don't mind?"
"No, go on. You're driving me crazy."
"I owe you one."
"Just don't talk to any stray cats on your way in. I'd hate for their plots to overthrow Norrath to trouble you."
Elron stalked away mumbling something unintelligible.
Drath stood alone, the silence broken here and there by his own snickers. He had heard all sorts of stories and seen all sorts of things, but kobolds, and frogloks were just people's stories. Talking coyote people, now that was solely Elron's story.
He gazed into the pitch dark night. It was mostly boring work. He hadn't seen any real action since the Combine had left Kunark. The citizens were working too hard to waste time on in-fighting and petty differences. Not just once had he wished for something eventful and potentially dangerous to happen.
A twig snapped. Drath looked to his left, but he couldn't make anything out.
He lifted a nearby torch and heard a rustling behind him.
He looked back over his shoulder; only blackness.
And then dead straight ahead there was something near a tree. A small shadow with unmistakably pointy ears and what looked like a battle hammer in its hand. Drath began to draw his sword until he froze as a ghostly canine voice filtered through the air. A clammy feeling coated his body.
His jaw dropped behind his helmet, and his torch slid from his fingers to extinguish with a hiss.
