It’s 'cause I’m black init?

A clanking bell signals that one of their traps has caught its prey.

Another half-witted orc has fallen into one of the many covered pits.

Stretching out his hand to one of his human underlings, the black, dragon-born: Mallyx is heaved to his armoured feet.

Curiously, the bell continues to toll and Mallyx waves to his teammates to come with him.

As he approaches the clearing, he sees, not an orc in a trap but a well armoured Tiefling, standing beside the, still covered, pit. 
He's deliberately sounding the bell!

‘I know you’ Mallyx grunts.

‘You’re one of the would be rescuers from Fewham’.

The two warriors size each other up.

Dokan is tough and well equipped and Mallyx licks his lipless teeth.

Dokan may be tough but he is also alone.

‘Nice sword. If you give it to me, I’ll allow you to leave’.

Despite his seemingly vulnerable position, Dokan refuses and Mallyx sends the human gladiator forward.

After just a few steps however, the gladiator screams in pain. A knife embedded deep into his thigh.

‘It’s a trap!’ he shouts as the Halfling: Charlie Stilton reveals himself.

Suddenly all hell breaks loose. What seemed to be three against one, turns out to be three against three as the tiny Zavia 'attacks' from the trees above.

Still, the Black dragon-born, supported by the male, human warrior and a female, human sorceress, seems confident.

He remains confident until the little gnomish illusionist: Zavia tricks him into stepping onto his own, concealed pit trap.

Down he goes, soon followed by his two humans.

Once at the bottom of the spiked pit, it is only a matter of time before Dokan and Charlie Stilton finish them off with crossbow bolts and thrown daggers.

 On the bodies, other than a few mundane items, you find the following:

(EDITED to show who has taken what so far. This session included Zavia, Charlie, Dokan only.  They get first dibs but will present remaining items to the group before selling them.)
(PS - I arbitrarily allocated THESE items)

A Horned helm: Lvl:16 45,000gp - Dokan

A Heavy Shield of deflection: 5 res Lvl:12 13,000gp - Dokan

A Light shield of recoil Lvl: 9 4,200gp

A Bastard sword of terror +4 lvl:19 105,000gp

A Battle master’s Broadsword +4. Lvl: 19 105,000gp - Dokan

A suit of Troll skin armour +3 (Scale) Lvl:15 25,000gp

A suit of Resistance armour +4 (Lightning 10) Scale Lvl:17 65,000gp - Dokan

A Robe of eyes +3  Lvl: 12 13,000gp - Zavia

A Crossbow of quickness +3 Lvl: 13 17,000gp - Charlie

A Ring of protection Lvl:17 65,000gp - Charlie Stilton

A Safe wing amulet +4 Lvl:18 85,000gp - Zavia

Hero's Gauntlets Lvl: 17 65,000gp - Charlie

After a more widely spread search you find several more pit traps and their base camp.

There are three tents, two horses and a wagon. The wagon filled up with at least a hundred severed orc heads. Their bodies lie in a burnt pile of bones and ash and the smell of pork hangs heavy in the air.

You find spare clothes, camping gear and some money.

458gp

132sp

340 low quality diamonds worth about 50gp each (17,000gp)

152gp, 44sp, 113 diamonds each (remainder 2gp, 1 diamond)
We ask Zavia if she has space for the rest of the stuff in her Bag of holding

Blue diamond fill-ups

The young, blue dragon yawns widely and uncurls himself from his stone thrown.

More adventurers. There seem to be more adventurers than orcs in his, supposedly infested, kingdom.

He’d received report after report of orc gatherings from his Black-cloaks but, even after all his efforts, only a few hundred had been caught and executed.

Where are the others hiding?

More importantly, how are they hiding so effectively?

Many adventurers had come with the hope to refill their moneybags. Most were opportunistic idiots but the last three mercenaries seem confident. The Tiefling and the Halfling were almost impertinent in his presence.

The Gnomish woman, not so much but perhaps that was just due to her encounter with the Kobolds.

Still, he’d pay them fairly if they manage to return with proof of their triumphs. It’s not as if he’s short of money.

Perhaps they’ll even find one of the orcish ringleaders?

It had been months since he’d first heard of the orc gatherings but he’d resisted calling his mother for help.

Khajag was his town. Just a mining town now but soon to be a city and centre of his kingdom. It would be unseemly for him to request his mother’s aid so early in his rule.

He’d deal with this small matter himself.

Narcissus drags a razor-sharp claw down the parchment in front of him…

10gp per orc dispatched. Generous but so what?

5,000gp for the thorns: Morten, Aurelius, Angur, Harang, Knut, Ragnar, Stig and Viggo.

All of them known to have killed Black-cloaks.

But more important still, a 10,000gp reward for Bodan the barbarian and Auzoux the conqueror.

These two muscle-bound idiots have actually managed to inspire their feebleminded brethren with the tales of their heroic battles and their thirst for Dragon-born blood.

This cannot be allowed.

All roads lead to Gnome.

It had been a good plan. With the hamster-like vedics back onside and the human children treated more respectfully, they had needed a better way to protect themselves.

The majority of the kobold slaves had escaped via the route that the adventures had created while breaking into their cavernous conurbation.

This wasn’t really a problem though. Only a few of them would survive for long without a tribe behind them and even the ones who did wouldn’t be able to cause much of a problem.

Even if they were to be reported to Thereanthor herself, the gnomes were small in number and not worth bothering about.

Currently.

His plan was so simple; it was a surprise to Gerrome that they hadn’t thought of it sooner.

The dragon empress had to be defeated if the gnomes were to raise themselves back to their former glory.

But how?

Thereanthor’s greatest enemy had been the massed orc armies.

They had fought for decades.

They had fought on despite horrendous losses.

They had fought until only scattered handfuls of them remained.

And then, once utterly defeated, Thereanthor punished them further.

Though brutish and dull witted, the warrior orc race had been unfairly reduced to mere beggars. Banned from doing much of anything beyond the short-lived career of mercenaries.

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, the dispersed but fast breeding orcs would make perfect allies to fill the near empty gnomish mountain stronghold.

The gnomes would supply a home.

The orcs, in return, would supply the muscle.

The muscle to, first defend their new home and then, to help bring down the blue dragoness herself!

The recruitment drive was simple enough. Dozens of young gnomes had volunteered to go back out in the world.

Each one would travel to a specific location and start recruiting. It would start slowly but hopefully snowball as the orcs would eventually, began to recruit themselves.
Now though, with one of Thereanthor's children so close to one of the recruitment stations, the plan was in jeopardy.
The Gnomish precautions were good; his people were the masters of illusion and distraction. 
Would they be good enough though to keep the Black cloaks out for the entire year long recruitment drive?

He thinks it’s all over…

Sitting in the anti-chamber between his office and his private rooms, Lord Rician sighs with relief.

A servant tends to the gash to his neck but it isn’t serious. He had been lucky…

Lucky?

Two of his guards lie dead on the floor of his office as well as one of his most trusted clerks.

Those two adventurers had also swindled him out of 2,400gp worth of gems…

Swindled?

In fairness, it had been he who had swindled them in the first place. He’d known that they would baulk when confronted by a young dragon rather than a young woman.

He had also known that she’d probably have to save herself at that point. A task that was easily in her power. There isn’t much that can stop a dragon.

Still, he’d settled the matter with the adventurers and could finally relax.

Ordering one of the clerks nearby to fetch a quill and some paper, Lord Rician prepares to write the commiseration letters to the families of the dead.